


A Special Bond

by CaptainDodge



Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse), The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: Action, Blood and Gore, Bullying, Drama, Hallucinations, Science Fiction, Superheroes, Symbiotic Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-03-09 10:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18915226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDodge/pseuds/CaptainDodge
Summary: After getting caught in the middle of a fight between Spider-Man and one of his longtime foes, Lincoln Loud starts having strange... fantasies. Violent fantasies. Fantasies that turn into urges. Urges that the voice in his head is happy to encourage...





	1. One Loud Day

**Author's Note: Hey-ho! Recently, this guy gave me some suggestions for future stories, and I built a couple of ideas from them. One suggestion was a straight-up rip-off of the bell tower scene from** _**Spider-Man 3** _ **(get it?), only with Lincoln playing the role of Peter Parker. I discarded that suggestion, but it gave me an idea for a story that could incorporate my favorite** _**Loud House** _ **characters and my favorite Marvel characters, and now, well… here we are!**

 **Before we get started, I'd just like to make it known that I'm more of a** _**Loud House** _ **fan than a Marvel fan. What information I know about the Marvel universe and its characters comes from wikis, YouTube videos, movie adaptations, and the occasional digital comic book. I've done quite a lot of homework for this fic, but I still might get some facts wrong, so if I do, I apologize in advance.**

 **Also, I decided not to stay completely up-to-date on the Marvel comic books – as in, I'll be disregarding certain developments in the comics as of late (for example – spoilers! – Eddie Brock no longer having the Venom symbiote). Sorry, hardcore comic book geeks, but this is a Marvel/** _**Loud House** _ **crossover – it's already about as far away from canon as it can get! If it makes you feel better, just think of it as yet another alternate universe. (I mean, there's one where the superheroes and supervillains are** _**zombies,** _ **so it's not** _**that** _ **implausible…)**

 **And finally, let me just warn you that, if you read Marvel comics, then you might figure out some plot twists** _**way** _ **ahead of time. (After all, you've got decades' worth of history on your side!) Just thought I'd give you fair warning!**

**Okay, I think that's everything, so, without further ado, let's get this show on the road!**

**I'm Captain Dodge – thank you, and have a nice day!**

(...)

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon at the Royal Woods Mall. Shoppers were commuting from store to store, buying what they needed or whatever struck their fancy. As usual, Lincoln Loud and his best friend, Clyde McBride, could be found at the local comic book store, reading up on some of the most famous exploits of their favorite superheroes committed to print. (Admittedly, the accounts of the comic books weren't as truthful as those of the news, but they were certainly more fun and easier to follow for kids like the two boys.)

" _Whoaaa!"_  Lincoln said, marveling at the fight scene between Spider-Man and Venom. The poses were so dynamic, the combat so vivid… This comic truly was a classic. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from the page and look up at his friend, who was engrossed in a  _Black Panther_  comic. "Hey, Clyde, check this out!"

Clyde only spared Lincoln a momentary glance. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, yeah, Lincoln, hang on…"

Lincoln gave Clyde a bemused look that went unnoticed. "Clyde," he said, "how come you only read Black Panther comics?"

"He's a great role model for African Americans!" Clyde responded cheerfully.

Lincoln thought about it, then nodded. "…Hm. True. But hey, that doesn't mean you have to just stick to  _him._  I mean,  _all_  superheroes are great role models!"

"Except for anti-heroes," Clyde said.

"Yeah, well, they still fight crime! And besides, who  _wouldn't_  want to be a superhero? Beating up bad guys, saving the world…"

Clyde looked apprehensive. "I don't know, Lincoln… sounds kinda dangerous to me…"

"Of  _course_  it's dangerous – that's what makes it so  _heroic!"_  Lincoln sighed, hugging the comic to his chest.  _"Ah…_  What I wouldn't give to meet some  _real_  superheroes…"

"Well, didn't we see the Great Lakes Avengers at that convention in Detroit last year?"

"Like I said –  _real_  superheroes. You know, like Spider-Man, or Black Panther?"

Clyde nodded. "Yeah… But what are the odds of  _that?_  All the important stuff happens in the big cities, like New York and San Francisco. Nothing exciting ever happens  _here –_ the worst we've had is that string of burglaries, and that can easily be prevented with a little home security!"

Lincoln's eyes fell to the floor. "Yeah…" He closed his eyes, sighing. "Still… it's nice to dream. Wouldn't it be awesome if  _we_  got superpowers?" The thought made Lincoln snort after a moment. "…Ah, but what are the odds of us getting bitten by radioactive spiders, or getting bombarded with cosmic radiation, or being born into African royalty?" He shook his head, then waved his comic in the air and jabbed a thumb at the checkout counter. "Ah, well – let's ring these up. Come on, buddy."

Noticing how downcast he had become, Clyde tried to cheer Lincoln up as the cashier rang them up. "Hey, you know, Lincoln…" he said, "…when you think about it, you being able to keep your family together is kind of a superpower all on its own, don't you think?"

Clyde's attempt worked – Lincoln chortled at his little observation. "Yeah…" As the two took their bags and left the comic shop, he added, "That reminds me – Leni asked me to walk home with her from work."

Clyde's phone buzzed, and he fished it out of his pocket and read the new text. "Oh – perfect timing!" As he stuffed his phone back into his pocket, he said, "My dads are here – we still on for Spider-Man and Black Panther cosplay at my house after school on Monday?"

"You know it!" Lincoln performed his special bro handshake with Clyde, high-fiving him, spinning him around, and closing with a fist-bump. "See you then, buddy!"

"See ya, Lincoln!"

Lincoln waved Clyde off, then strode off in the direction of Reininger's. As he walked, the battle between Spider-Man and Venom in his newly-purchased reprint of  _The Amazing Spider-Man #300_  kept playing and replaying in his mind. Before long, the young boy found himself re-enacting the scene himself, to the amusement of passersby.

" _Thwip! Thwip! Wa-POW!"_  Lincoln chuckled as he came up to Reninger's. "Ah… I wish I could be one of them… A  _real_  superhero…"

As Lincoln entered the store (coming under the watchful eye of Fiona in the process), he found Leni at the cash register with that creep Salvatore Fox and his goon, the unfortunately-nicknamed Barry Kaiser.  _Well, Lincoln,_  he told himself,  _at least you can still be a REGULAR hero…_

Sal Fox was touching Leni's arm. Leni gave him the stink eye in response, though Fox didn't take the hint (or, more likely, deliberately ignored it). "Come on, Lens," he said, "how many times do I gotta say it? I'm  _crazy_  about you, girl. Why won't you give me a chance…?"

Leni finally pulled her arm out of his grasp. "First of all," she said, "my name is  _Leni,_  not  _Lens._  Second of all, I told you – I haven't forgotten what you did to Mandee, you… you…  _meanie!"_

"Leni?" Lincoln called out.

Leni and her two harassers looked at Lincoln, and as soon as she saw him, Leni's face lit up with relief. "Well," she said with a smirk, "sorry to disappoint you, boys, but my escort is here." She left the checkout counter and strolled up to her brother, taking his arm. "You wouldn't want to, like, look bad in front of my family, would you?"

Sal Fox snickered – Leni probably thought she was being subtle. "Who's looking bad?" He combed his fingers through his hair. "See you 'round, Leni. Hope you'll give my offer some more consideration…"

"I already have," she said as she tugged Lincoln's arm.  _"_ _See ya._ Let's go, Linky!"

Sal Fox stewed silently as he watched his prize leave the store with her annoying little brother in tow, asking Miguel to clock her out for her. Barry Kaiser attempted to think of some sort of consolation for his friend/boss, but all he could think of was "Ouch…"

Sal Fox took it in stride, though. "Ah, just goes to show, Kai – nice guys finish last." He chuckled, then his smile slowly curdled into a frown. "Maybe it's time we stopped playing nice…"

(…)

Leni insisted on taking the long way back home, which meant strolling through downtown. Lincoln couldn't blame her – it was nice and mild outside, and the air was fresh and fragrant. As they walked home, Lincoln and Leni chatted about their respective days, until the conversation inevitably came back to the two creeps back at Reininger's, bringing Leni's mood back down.

"Hey, what's your deal with those guys, anyways?" Lincoln asked. "I mean, if you don't mind my asking…"

Leni sighed. "No, it's fine…" She folded her arms and started her long diatribe. "Well, Barry just follows Sal's lead, but Sal… _ugh._  He started going out with Mandee a month ago, but then, only, like, two weeks later, he just dumped her out of the blue and, like, almost as  _soon_  as he did, he asked me out. I, like, didn't know what to say, so, I told him I needed some time. But then, Jackie told me that he only dated Mandee to get close to  _me._  And, like, it made sense – like, almost as soon as he and Mandee started going out, he started getting really friendly with me. I liked him – I thought he was just being nice. But then he just dumps her for, like, no reason, and it's like,  _why?_  You've met Mandee, you know how cool she is! Then I remembered how, like, he'd kinda ignore her when we were all out together and just focus on  _me,_  and then, again, there was that whole  _'asking me out so soon after breaking up with Mandee'_  thing, and it's like,  _'how could you treat her that way and still expect me to go out with you afterwards?'"_ She huffed, turning back to Lincoln. "You know what I mean?"

Lincoln blinked. He  _didn't_  know what she meant, actually – in fact, he lost track of the conversation around the point of the fourth "like". Still, Leni had demanded a response, so he just went with the safest bet. "Uh…  _yeah._  Yeah, I get it – he's a creep."

 _"Totes_  a creep!" Leni sighed, slumping her shoulders. "But even though I said  _'no'_ twice, he still won't leave me alone…" She shook her head. "And he's getting, like, really… what's the word?  _Incestant?"_

 _"Insistent,"_  Lincoln corrected.

"Right, right… It's getting harder and harder to get him to back off…" She smiled sweetly at Lincoln. "Thanks for saving me back there, Lincoln…"

"What,  _me?"_  Lincoln waved dismissively. "Oh, I didn't do anything!  _You_  did all the work, I was just, you know…  _there!"_

"Sometimes that's all it takes, Linky!" Leni looked up at the sky. "Sometimes… all it takes to be a hero is to be in the right place at the right time…"

At that very moment, a loud  _crash_  was heard, startling Lincoln and Leni, followed by the squealing of rubber on asphalt. The two siblings watched as a truck that had been passing by swerved out of control into the opposite lane, forcing the oncoming cars to dodge out of the way, and ran straight into a building with an awful _smash._

Horrified, the onlookers, Lincoln and Leni included, rushed to the scene (ignoring the large black figure nearby), crying out "Call 9-1-1!" and checking for anyone inside the truck. Too many people had surrounded the truck before Lincoln and Leni got there, and the two of them were separated as they tried to shove past. The bystanders shoved back, and Lincoln was forced back and to the right of the forming crowd, right behind the truck.

Grumbling, Lincoln picked himself up and dusted himself off, but as he spared a glance towards the back of the truck, intending to try again, he noticed that the doors had been jarred open. Seized with a young boy's curiosity, Lincoln momentarily disregarded his concern for the driver and anyone else that might be in the truck and crept over to the back of the bed, peeking inside. It was mostly dark, but what little rays of light snuck through illuminated a few canisters containing…  _something._  Lincoln opened the doors wider to get a better look.

_"Out of the way, kid!"_

A snarling, monstrous voice behind him gave Lincoln only gave him a moment's warning before he was roughly shoved aside by a powerful force – one powerful enough to unintentionally bash his head against the metal side of the truck. Stunned, Lincoln slid to the floor, and the last thing he saw was an enormous creature – shaped like a man, but black all over – stepping inside. Then, he passed out.

 _"_ … _incoln? Lincoln? Lincoln!"_

When Lincoln came to, he was in an alleyway. Leni hovered over him anxiously, her face creased with worry.

Lincoln lifted his head up, wincing.  _"Ohhh…"_  he groaned, putting one hand to his head.  _"Ooogh… Unh… Uh…_  L-Leni?"

"Lincoln, are you all right?" Leni asked.

Lincoln rubbed his head, trying to get his bearings.  _"Ugh…_  I-I think so… What happened?"

"I don't know – I found you in the back of the truck, passed out. What were you doing back there?"

"I…" Suddenly, Lincoln became aware of a great din all around him – bestial roaring, the crunching of metal, and the screaming of hapless civilians. "Wha… What's going on…?"

Leni helped Lincoln to his feet, cautioning him with a "Careful…", and Lincoln stumbled out of the alleyway onto the sidewalk – and what he saw instantly snapped him out of his daze.

There, standing before him… was a genuine, honest-to-God  _supervillain._

Venom screamed impatiently as he tore the truck apart, disregarding the pandemonium he was causing.  _"Where is it?!"_ he roared.  _"WHERE IS IT?!"_

Lincoln stood transfixed – he never thought he'd see the day, but here he was, looking at Eddie Brock, a.k.a. Venom – Spider-Man's arch-nemesis, formed from the bond between a spurned alien symbiote that once served as his suit and a disgraced reporter who blamed him for his misfortunes. He'd heard that Venom had given up his vendetta against the webslinger and was trying to turn over a new leaf as a superhero, but it was honestly hard to tell that looking at him now.

Leni, terrified, shakily took Lincoln's hand. "C-C-C-Come on, Linky… L-L-Let's get out of here…"

Venom gave the contents of the truck yet another once-over, but his target was still nowhere in sight. "I don't  _get it!"_  he said. "I got the license plate number –  _this_  is the right truck! Where is it?!" He turned over an empty canister – and stopped when he noticed that it was cracked.

"Cracked…" Venom dropped the canister. "It  _escaped!_  Where did it go? The only other person in here was…"

Venom's gaze snapped over his shoulder, where he spied Leni leading Lincoln away. He turned and pointed at the white-haired boy.

_"YOU!"_

Leni turned to see the monster pointing at them… and nearly wet herself.  _"Lincoln, RUN!"_

A supervillain like Venom suddenly taking an interest in him was all the motivation Lincoln needed to follow Leni's order, but an eleven-year-old kid was no match for a powerful alien symbiote. In one bound, Venom leaped into the air and came down in front of Leni, who fell back on her butt with a frightened yelp. Before Lincoln could turn and run in the opposite direction, Venom grabbed him by the wrist and hoisted him up into the air, bringing him to eye level.

Lincoln kicked and squirmed fruitlessly, all the pre-prepared lines he planned to give to a supervillain should he ever meet one face-to-face flying out the window.  _"N-No!"_  he cried.  _"NO! L-Let me go! Leave me alone!"_

Seeing her precious baby brother in danger brought Leni springing to her feet, and she started pounding at Venom's abdomen as hard as she could as tears streamed down her face.  _"NO! Put him down, put him down, put him down…!"_

Undeterred, Venom licked his razor-sharp teeth top to bottom with his long, grotesque tongue.  _"This… ends… NOW!"_

He opened his mouth wide, baring his horrific fangs before the helpless child.  _"No! No, please! Please, don't hurt me!"_

Leni, equally helpless, resorted to pathetically crying and fell to her knees, her makeup running.  _"No… NO! LINCOLN!"_

 _"PUT… THE KID…_ _**DOWN!"** _

A sharp, youthful voice cut through the chaos, hurling a heavy iron manhole cover which slammed into Venom's head, nearly splitting it in two. The creature dropped Lincoln and stumbled back, howling more in shock and anger than in pain. Lincoln opened his eyes in surprise, hardly daring to breathe, and gaped. He was alive – he didn't know how, but he was  _alive!_  Although he hesitated to look at the same maw that he had been staring into from point blank range only seconds ago, he did anyway, and saw that the manhole cover had been swung by two webbed threads.

As soon as he made this discovery, a certain red and blue wallcrawler swooped into the scene, punctuating his already impressive entrance with a flying kick to Venom's neck, knocking him flat on his back. Spider-Man somersaulted in midair, then landed nimbly on his feet, in combat stance.

"Sp… Sp…  _Spider-Man…"_

Spider-Man, seeing that Venom was down for the count (or, at least, for the moment), turned to his would-be victim and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, kid?" he asked.

Lincoln stared dumbly for a second before blinking and hurriedly trying to form words. This was a  _lot_  to process for him – first, he had witnessed a truck crash; then, he saw a supervillain; then, said supervillain tried to  _eat_  him;  _then,_  his favorite superhero had saved him; and  _now,_  said superhero had just  _talked to him._  It took everything Lincoln had just to avoid fainting on the spot.

"U… Uh… Uh-huh…" he said without really thinking.

Overwhelmed with relief, Leni rushed up to Lincoln and his hero.  _"Linky!"_  She threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank goodness…!"

"Miss, is this your brother?" Spider-Man asked.

Leni broke the hug, looking up at Spider-Man with a bewildered expression. "Wha –? Uh, um – uh, y-yeah?"

"Get him out of here –  _now!"_

 _"Eek!"_  Leni squeaked. "Y-Yes, sir!" She took Lincoln's hand. "Come on, Lincoln!"

She stood up and pulled Lincoln to his feet, though Lincoln offered half-hearted resistance. Like a horny teenager, his mind was filled with "but"s – he didn't want to leave without getting Spider-Man's autograph, or, failing that, a few selfies with him,  _but,_  he also didn't want to stick around and possibly get eaten;  _buuut,_  he also wanted to see his favorite hero in action;  _buuuuut,_  he also wanted to obey his favorite hero and  _get the heck out of there._

In the end, his survival instinct won out, and Lincoln allowed Leni to lead him away to safety, though not without shouting  _"Tha-Thank you, Spider-Man!"_  over his shoulder.

With the kid safely out of the way, Spider-Man turned his attention back to Venom, his erstwhile enemy/ally, who was now back on his feet.  _"Tsk, tsk, tsk…"_  he clucked his tongue.  _"Eating children,_  Brock? I always had my suspicions, but now I'm  _sure_  of it…" He pointed at the big goopy man-alien. "You're a  _troll._  And I don't mean the Internet kind…"

Venom pulled the manhole cover out of his head, which slowly pulled itself together.  _"That… really… HURT!"_  he shouted as soon as his mouth re-formed.

 _"Aww,_  did Eddie get a boo-boo?" Spider-Man said mockingly.  _"Aww…_  you want Daddy to kiss it better?"

Growling furiously, Venom bent the manhole cover at a 90-degree angle. "We are  _so_ not in the mood for your barbs, Webhead! We've gotta put a stop to this once and for –" He stopped, looking around. Where had the kid gone? He couldn't sense him anywhere, and he was nowhere in sight.  _Where did he go?_

"Gone…" He pounded the ground with his fists.  _"He's GONE! We've lost him!"_  With a frightening grimace, he turned to Spider-Man.  _"This is all YOUR fault!"_

"Ah, yes, Eddie Brock's tried-and-true solution to  _everything:_  blame Spider-Man. I mean, hey, if it worked once before…!"

Snarling, Venom advanced on Spider-Man threateningly, but then reconsidered his priorities.  _"Grr…_  Forget it – we've got  _bigger_  bugs to zap!" He started past the webslinger. "We've gotta find that kid before it's too late!"

He was only able to take two steps before two webs restrained him. Turning his head, he saw Spider-Man holding him back.

"…You know I can't let you do that, Venom," Spider-Man said in a low voice.

Exasperated, Venom shook his head, letting his tongue flicker in and out of his mouth, then grabbed the webs and ripped them off, winding them around his arm. "We don't have  _time_  for this…!"

"Well, you'd better  _make_  time, because it's  _go time!"_

Slinging a web at a nearby building and using it and the webs Venom had a hold on as leverage, Spider-Man sling-shotted himself at Venom, kicking him square in the face. The blow knocked Venom onto his back, and Spider-Man landed on his chest and started pummeling his head with his fists. Venom responded by locking his hands together and hitting Spider-Man with a fierce hammerblow to the chest, knocking the webslinger back and leaving him gasping for air, then bucked him off completely. Catching his breath, Spider-Man backflipped a safe distance away, and Venom got to his feet. Thinking fast, Spider-Man webbed one of the detached doors of the truck Venom had crashed and torn apart.

 _"Special delivery!"_  Spidey shouted as he flung the door at Venom, who dodged and shot a web of his own at the makeshift projectile, moving with its momentum.

 _"Return to sender!"_  Venom responded, spinning around and hurling the door back at Spider-Man. Spider-Man leapt up out of the way and slung another web at the door to catch it and prevent it from hitting any rubbernecks on the scene – exactly what Venom thought he would do. Seizing the opportunity, Venom hurled himself at the momentarily defenseless hero, bypassing his Spider-Sense as usual, and dropkicked him, sending him crashing into the shredded side of the truck. Not giving his foe a moment's reprieve, Venom pressed the attack, pounding Spider-Man mercilessly into the metal. Spider-Man, completely overwhelmed, could do little except tank the assault as best he could.

When Venom wound up for a particularly powerful punch, Spider-Man sensed his opportunity and fired a web at his face, momentarily blinding him. That moment was all Spider-Man needed to spring back into action, ripping off a jagged shard of metal from the truck bed and using it to stab Venom in the neck, leaping up onto his chest.

Venom grabbed Spider-Man's wrist, hissing. "I thought we were  _friends_  now…!"

"Well, you know what they say…" Spider-Man said,  _"…'you always hurt the ones you love.'"_

Venom grinned. "That so…? Well then…" He grabbed Spider-Man by the neck.

"Let us show you how much we  _'love'_  you!"

With that, Venom slammed Spider-Man into the street, then grabbed him by the leg and swung him overhead, mashing him into the sidewalk, then back into the street, then the sidewalk again, then the street again, before tossing him back at the truck.

Spider-Man slid to the ground, groaning, then struggled to get up. Just as he managed to do so, however, Venom wrapped his hands around his throat again.

 _"Ack…!"_  Spidey shaped both of his hands into a "T". "Okay, time out,  _time out…!"_

Venom got right up in Spider-Man's face, his grotesque tongue flickering just in front of his nose. "…If we weren't on the side of good right now," he said, "we'd snap your neck just like this." Then, without warning, he released his grip. "As it is, though, consider this a warning:  _don't interfere with our business._  We're not your enemy – best  _keep_  things that way." To Spider-Man's immense surprise, Venom then sprouted wings. "Now, we've got to find that white-haired kid…"

Flapping his huge, powerful wings, Venom lifted off and flew away, scanning for Lincoln.

Spider-Man watched him go, not bothering to try to stop him again.  _Heh…_  he thought.  _Good luck – he went the other way._  He stretched, sore from the fight. _"Ah…_  Oh, man… Well, guess Venom can fly now. Just when you think you've got 'em figured out…  _Ow…_ " He sighed. "…So, I guess he wasn't looking for a fight. But what  _was_  he looking for, then? That kid? What is it about that kid that's got him so riled up? Does he just hate kids? Wouldn't put it past him…"

As the throngs of people began to gather around Spider-Man: praising his performance in the fight (even though he got thrashed), asking for his autograph, and beginning to take selfies with him without permission. Spidey disregarded all the attention (which he was used to), and instead focused on the truck that Venom had torn to shreds. Although it was hard to read through all the deformed and twisted metal, he could still make out the name of the company that owned the truck:

Alchemax.

(…)

Lincoln took another look back over his shoulder. He and Leni had been running non-stop for almost fifteen minutes, now. The battle was far behind them, and Venom was nowhere to be seen. Seeing how winded Leni had become, he tugged on her hand, signaling for her to stop.

"Okay, Leni, okay…" he said, "…I think we've gone far enough. We've lost 'em. We're safe."

Leni gratefully took the opportunity to rest, bending over and panting. "…Are you sure?" she gasped.

"Look at where we are, Leni." Lincoln gestured to their surroundings. They had managed to run from downtown all the way to the residential area, not far from their home. "I'm pretty sure we're far enough away."

"Just… wanted to be sure…" She straightened up, wiping her brow.  _"Whew…_  Haven't run that fast… or that long… in a while…"

"Yeah…" Lincoln felt his own heartbeat. Steady. His breathing was slow and even. And he didn't feel tired at all. How could Leni, who was in better shape than he was, be tired, and not him? "Weird…"

"What is…?"

Lincoln thought about it for a moment. "…Eh, it's nothing. Forget it. Are you okay, Leni?"

"Am  _I_  okay?! Lincoln, what about  _you?!"_

"Me? I'm okay – all thanks to  _Spider-Man!"_  Lincoln started pacing back and forth excitedly. "Did you see him back there, Leni? He was all like…" He jumped back and forth, making swishing noises, and then started shadow boxing and kicking, accompanied by  _kiai_ s.

Leni, however, stopped him by putting her hands on his shoulders and looking straight into his eyes with deep concern etched all over her face. "Lincoln…" she said quietly, "…are you  _sure_  you're alright?"

Stunned by how serious she was, Lincoln's excitement melted away. "Uh… Y-Yes, Leni, I'm sure. I'm alright."

Leni's lip started to quiver. She brought a hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. "Lincoln…" Tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. "Lincoln, I… I just…  _Oh!"_

Suddenly, she pulled him into a hug, which Lincoln returned, despite his surprise. Leni clutched him tightly, even digging her nails into his skin in some areas, and shook. "Oh, Lincoln, I was so  _scared!_  I was so  _scared_  when that big mean man grabbed you! I thought he was going to  _kill_  you! I thought you were going to  _die…!"_

Now Lincoln understood what Leni was so shaken up about. "Oh…" Closing his eyes, he returned the hug, stroking his big sister's back soothingly. "It's okay, Leni… It's okay… I'm still here, okay?"

Leni sniffled. "Yeah…"

"Yeah…"

Leni sighed. "What a relief… Now, I still have the chance to kill you myself…"

"Yeah –" Lincoln's eyes snapped open. "Wait –  _what?!"_

He looked up at Leni, who still held him in her arms and smiled, yet under her veneer of kindness hid dripping contempt. "Lincoln…" she said, "…can you keep a secret?"

Lincoln was utterly confused. Who was this person, and what had they done with Leni? "…What?"

Leni opened her eyes, looking down on Lincoln. The sugary sweetness of her tone of voice could hardly mask the poison in her words. "…I  _hate_  you, Lincoln," she said. "I've hated you since the first time I saw you. How could I  _ever_  love someone… some _thing…_  so  _wrong?_  I wanted to be rid of you once and for all – I wanted to correct the  _mistake_  that is  _your existence._  And when Venom grabbed you and almost ate you, I thought I would never get the chance…"

Lincoln's heart sank into his feet. He started to cry. "L… L… Leni… I-I don't understand…"

"Oh, is this too big for your  _stupid_  little brain? Well, let me make it simpler for you. Lincoln…" She smiled.

_"You disgust me."_

Lincoln shook his head. This wasn't happening – this  _couldn't_  be happening!  _"No…! NO!"_

He forcefully separated from Leni, shoving her back. Leni stumbled off the sidewalk and fell back into the street… right in front of an oncoming bus.

Lincoln watched in horror as his elder sister – his sister, whom he thought was so warm and loving, but had just revealed herself to be a spiteful monster – was turned into roadkill right in front of him, her body bursting and splattering blood and offal all over the front of the bus, the street, the sidewalk… and her brother.

Lincoln shook as he looked down at himself, then up at the carnage he had inadvertently caused. He fell to his knees, put his hands on his head, and  _screamed._

"Linky?!"

Lincoln stopped immediately. He knew that voice…!

"What's wrong?" Leni asked.

Lincoln looked up at her from where he knelt. It wasn't possible… There she was, standing right in front of him! He scrambled back, pointing at her shakily. "You…! You just…!"

Leni scratched her head. "…I just said that I felt ashamed for not being able to do anything to help you. You know, as your big sister…?"

"You –" Lincoln blinked. "You… You  _did?"_

"Yes! Weren't you listening?"

Lincoln let his gaze fall, searching for answers. "B-But you said… And-And then I… Y… Th-The  _bus!"_

Lincoln looked down the road in both directions… but there was no bus in sight. Leni followed his gaze. "What bus? I thought we were walking home…"

Lincoln's arms fell limply at his sides. "I… I thought…"

"What?"

Lincoln forced himself to look at her face – the same face that had been smiling at him on the outside, but sneering at him on the inside, just a few seconds ago; the same face that had been ground into red paste between the rubber and the asphalt mere moments later. Now, however, she only had concern on her face – concern that, as far as Lincoln could tell, was 100% genuine.

Lincoln fell silent, at a complete loss. Leni took a hesitant step towards him. "Linky," she said, "you're scaring me…"

Lincoln took a shuddering breath. He didn't know what just happened back there, or where it came from – all he knew was, he didn't want it to happen again. "Let's…" Lincoln stood up and turned back in the direction of their house. "Let's… just keep walking…"

Leni reached out to him. "Here, I'll hold your hand…"

Lincoln retreated from her.  _"No!_  No, no, no, Leni, I – I-I mean –" He held up his hands, smiling nervously. "I-I-It's fine, Leni! I can walk by myself, thank you!"

"But Linky –"

"No, really, Leni, it's  _fine!"_  He turned his back to her. "Let's… Let's just go…"

And so, somewhat regretfully, Lincoln left a hurt Leni to trail behind him. Lincoln rubbed his hands together, shivering. After that little episode, he was sure that his skin would crawl if Leni were to touch him.

Speaking of that little episode,  _what was that all about?_  Leni, out of nowhere, just told him to his face, in the sweetest voice, that she  _hated_  him – that  _everything_  about him  _disgusted_  her. Why did she say that? Leni would never say  _that!_

And what about what happened  _afterwards?_  Lincoln had  _murdered_  her – as Lori would say, he  _literally_  threw her under the bus! The blood, the gore, it was… it was…

…Well, of  _course_  it was horrifying! Why wouldn't it be? That strange tingle he felt when he beheld the damage was nothing, nothing at all…

…just like everything he thought he'd seen and heard. It was all in Lincoln's head – but why?  _Why_  was it in his head? And why did it seem so  _real?_

Such thoughts dogged Lincoln all the way back to 1216 Franklin Avenue – the Loud house.

(…)

Everyone's attention snapped to the front door as Lincoln opened it. "…We're home," he called out.

All at once, Lincoln was swarmed by his sisters, all calling and shouting over each other. Taken aback, Lincoln fended them off as Leni came in behind him.

"Whoa, whoa,  _whoa!"_  Lincoln said, raising his hands in defense. "What's all  _this_  about?"

Mr. and Mrs. Loud pushed their way past their kids. "Hey, hey, hey," Mrs. Loud said, "okay,  _enough,_  everyone!"

Lincoln's other sisters fell silent. Lincoln and Leni looked up at their parents, silently requesting an explanation.

"Are you alright, kids?" Mrs. Loud asked.

Lincoln nodded. "Yes, we're fine. Why?"

"We thought you might be hurt…" Lana said.

"Hurt?"

"Didn't you hear?" Lynn said. "We haven't gotten all the details yet, but apparently, there was a huge accident downtown."

Leni gasped.  _"O! M! Gosh, you guys!"_  she said. Then, Lincoln joined her in saying,  _"We were THERE!"_

The Loud crowd erupted into commotion again, with shouts of disbelief and demands to know what happened rolling through the air, mixing together in an incomprehensible clutter. Unable to contain their excitement, Lincoln and Leni started explaining what had happened to them simultaneously.

"You are  _not_  going to believe this –"

"Okay, so, like, we were walking home –"

"—there was a  _superhero fight_  downtown!"

"—and, like, all of a sudden, this  _truck_ just –"

" _And we were caught in the middle of it!"_

"—crashed, and we all got worried –"

"One of them even grabbed me –"

"—and then, like, this  _big black thing_  showed up –"

"—hoisted me up into the air!"

"—and started tearing up the truck, and, like –"

"But then –  _man!_  Oh,  _man –!"_

"—then he went after  _Lincoln!"_

"— _Spider-Man_  came to the rescue!"

Mr. Loud waved his hands back and forth.  _"Hey, hey, HEY!"_  he shouted over the commotion.  _"Enough!"_  Once everyone had piped down, he took a deep breath. "Okay, now –  _one at a time._  Lincoln, Leni… tell us what happened."

Lincoln and Leni looked at each other. "H-Here, Leni," Lincoln said, "I'll tell them."

Leni wanted to tell them herself, but it seemed to her that Lincoln knew more about the situation than she did, so she nodded, acquiescing. "…Okay."

Lincoln cleared his throat. "Okay, so… Leni and I were just walking home from the mall, see?"

"Oh, why didn't you call, kids?" Mrs. Loud interrupted. "We would have picked you up…"

Lincoln shrugged. "It's a beautiful day outside, and we just felt like walking and talking. So, Leni and I were just talking, and then all of a sudden, a truck spins out of control and crashes into a building!"

The other Louds all gasped.  _"Oh, no!"_  Luan said. "Was anyone hurt?"

"I don't know – I  _hope_  not. Leni and I tried to take a closer look, but everyone else did, too, and we got separated. I took a look in the back of the truck, and then…" Lincoln scratched his head. "…Well, I don't exactly know what happened, but…"

Lori turned to Leni. "Leni," she said, "do you wanna take it from here?"

Leni looked at Lincoln for approval, and after receiving it, started. "Okay, so, like, I was just trying to get a look inside the truck's cockpit, and then –"

"Wait, wait, wait," Luna said,  _"time out._  The truck's  _cockpit?"_

"Yeah! You know, where the driver sits?"

The Louds all looked at each other, then shrugged. "…Okay," Mr. Loud said, "continue, Leni."

"And then, we all, like, heard noises in the back of the truck, and we all went to look, and I saw Lincoln lying in the back of the truck, sleeping!"

" _Sleeping?"_  Luan said.

"Unconscious, I think she means," Lincoln explained.

" _Ohhh._  Well, what happened?"

Lincoln and Leni shared an unsure look. "Well…" Leni said, "…I don't know. But he had an owie on the side of his head – here, Lincoln, show them!"

Lincoln parted his hair to show the family his bruised cranium. "I think I got shoved, and hit my head," he said.

"You okay, sweetie?" Mrs. Loud asked.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Just a little bruise."

Mrs. Loud gave him a concerned look. "…Okay…"

"Anyways," Leni continued, "I went to pick him up, and when I looked up, I saw this…" Leni paused, struggling to think of a description for what she saw. "This… This  _big…_   _black… man-thing!_  Yeah – a big, black man-thing!"

Everyone eyed Leni skeptically.  _"'Man-thing'?"_  Lynn said.

"Uh…" Leni looked to Lincoln for assistance – assistance that he was happy to provide.

" _Venom,_  you guys," he said excitedly.  _"Venom!"_

"'Venom'?" Mrs. Loud said.

"Yeah!" Lincoln looked around the crowd. "What, you – you don't know who Venom is?"

Everyone stared at him uncomprehendingly.

Lincoln sighed – this was going to take a lot of explanation. "Okay, okay, look, Venom is –" Just then, he got an idea.  _"Oh! Wait!_  I'll  _show_  you! Where's my comic…?" Lincoln patted himself down, looking for the comic he purchased earlier today, then groaned in dismay.  _"Oh,_  I must have dropped it when everything happened! Dang it, that one cost me  _fifteen bucks…!"_

"What are you talking about, Lincoln?" Leni asked.

"My  _comic –_  the one I bought at the mall today!"

" _Oh!"_  Leni opened her bag and pulled out Lincoln's issue of  _The Amazing Spider-Man #300._  "You mean  _this_  comic?"

Lincoln's face lit up with joy and relief.  _"Yes!_  That's it! Thank you, Leni! You held onto it for me?"

"Yeah, just like you asked! Remember?"

"Oh, right, right, right…" He beckoned to her. "Well, here, here, Leni – give it here!"

Leni handed Lincoln the comic, and Lincoln flipped through the pages until he found an appropriate picture of Venom, pointing it out to his family. "Here! See this?  _This_  is Venom – a man named Eddie Brock mixed with an alien lifeform. He's Spider-Man's arch-nemesis! He was there – and he attacked us! Attacked  _me!"_

" _No way!"_  Lana gasped.

" _Get out!"_  Lynn said incredulously.

The rest of Lincoln's sisters were just as unconvinced as Lynn, leaving only Lana and Leni to believe Lincoln. "Are you just making this up, Lincoln?" Lola asked.

Lincoln shook his head emphatically.  _"No!_ No way! I'm telling you guys, it's the  _truth!_  Venom was there, and he jumped up in front of us, and then he grabbed me and hoisted me up in the air! Really!"

"Come on, Lincoln," Lucy said, "do you really expect us to believe that? Why would he go after  _you_  specifically?"

Lincoln shook his head again. "I don't know – but he _did,_  I'm telling you!" He turned to Leni. "Leni can back me up – right, Leni?"

"Oh my  _gosh,_  you guys," Leni said, "I was so  _scared!_  I didn't know what to do!"

The memory of what Leni had said to him after the fact returned to Lincoln unbidden. "Uh,  _heh, heh…_  Yeah…"

"Okay, so how did you get out of there alive, then?" Luan asked.

"Oh my gosh," Lincoln said, "you guys are  _not_  going to believe this –"

"We  _already_  do not believe it, elder brother," Lisa said dryly.

" _Shh! Listen!"_  Lincoln huddled in closer to the Loud crowd. "There I was, about to become a supervillain's  _lunch,_  when out of nowhere, Spider-Man swings in and saves me! Can you believe it, guys?!  _Spider-Man SAVED ME!"_

" _Whoaaa…!"_  Lana said, stars in her eyes.

Lynn scoffed. "Aw,  _come on…!"_

Lola and Lisa were similarly skeptical. "Okay," Lola said, "now we  _know_  you're making this up."

"It's totes  _true,_  you guys!" Leni said. "Spider-Man swung a round street thingie… Y-You know, one of those… thingies… in the street…"

Everyone looked to Lincoln for clarification. "A  _manhole cover,"_  he said.

"Right, whatever! He swung it at Venom's head, and it, like, made Venom drop Lincoln!" Leni clasped her hands together, popping one foot up. "He  _saved Lincoln!_  He's a  _hero!"_

Lynn, Lola, and Lisa remained unswayed, while Lucy and Luan, having heard Leni's testimony, were now not so doubtful. Lori, Luna and Lana, on the other hand, were completely starstruck.

Lori and Luna approached Leni. "L-Leni…" Lori said, "…is it true? Was Spider-Man  _really_  there?"

Leni crossed her heart. "Cross my heart, hope to  _die!_  He told me to –"

"He  _talked to you?!"_  Lori and Luna squeed and got right up in Leni's face.  _"What did he say? Huh, Leni? What did he say?!"_

"Oh! You know…" Leni rubbed the back of her head. "He, uh… asked Lincoln if he was okay, and then he told me to get him out of there, which I did, and…" She shrugged. "…That was it."

Lori and Luna shrank back, disappointed. "Aw, man," Luna said, "that's  _it?"_

"Well, it makes sense," Lori said. "They  _were_  in a dangerous situation…"

"Still, you  _talked_  to Spider-Man? An actual  _superhero?"_

Leni nodded, smiling. "Yeah!"

Lori folded her arms jealously.  _"Lucky…"_

"Even if what you said could be taken as the truth," Lisa said, "that still begs the question: What were superpowered beings doing in a small town with a low crime rate such as Royal Woods?"

Lincoln shrugged. "I don't know – all I know is, it was lucky that a superhero  _was_  there, or I'd've been  _toast!"_  He sighed dreamily. "I still can't believe it… Spider-Man… My hero…"

"Yeah, well, same here, Lincoln," Lola said. "We still can't believe it, either…"

"I'm telling you, it's the  _truth!"_  Lincoln looked at his parents. "Mom! Dad! You believe me, don't you?"

Mr. and Mrs. Loud looked at each other for a while, then Mrs. Loud shrugged. "…We don't know  _who_  or  _what_  to believe," she said, stepping up to Lincoln and Leni and wrapping an arm around each of them. "All I know is, we're glad you two are safe."

Lincoln and Leni hugged their mother back, and with the two's tale finished, the crowd began to disperse. Lori and Luna herded Leni away.

"So," Lori said, "did you get a good look at Spider-Man? Does he have a cute butt? I bet he has a cute butt…"

The others went their separate ways. Lynn lingered for a few parting shots with Lincoln. "So, Lincoln," she said, "next time you meet a superhero, maybe get their autograph as physical proof, huh?"

"He had  _other_  things on his mind, Lynn," Lincoln replied snippily. "But you know, I don't blame you for not believing me –  _I_  wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't been there. That's the thing, Lynn – you  _had_  to be there."

Lynn snorted. "Whatever." She turned to leave, but turned back after noticing something. "Oh – like the new shirt, by the way."

Then she left, leaving Lincoln confused. "New shirt…?" He looked down at his shirt, only now realizing that it was a few shades redder than before.

… _Huh, that's weird,_  he thought.  _Maybe I got blood on me._

(…)

Venom flew through the air and scoured the streets for the boy he'd seen at the scene of his ambush. All the while, he groused and grumbled about how Spider-Man had ruined everything for him yet again.

"…Of course he  _had_  to happen to be passing by… Of course he  _had_  to go and stop me…!" Venom snarled, opening his fanged maw and whipping his tongue around. "That damn  _webhead!_  Just when I think things are straight between us, he goes and twists it all up again!" He huffed a hissing breath through his teeth. "He doesn't  _understand…!_  With Knull on the rise, and Kasady working for him, it's just too  _risky!_  I have to  _end_  this – before it's too late!"

Venom scanned the ground below, watching the people beneath him gape in awe and fear, often before scurrying inside to safety. He uttered a deep chuckle. These small-town folks had most likely never seen a super before – and it was better that way. Nothing good ever came about from people like them getting involved with supers.

The people of Doverton, Colorado could attest to that.

Venom sighed. The sooner he could find that white-haired kid and put an end to this, the better.

But it had been an hour since he'd escaped from him, and he still couldn't find him anywhere. This place might not have been New York or San Francisco, but it was still big – big enough for that little squirt to hide, anyways. Venom shook his head. "…It's no use," he said. "We've lost him."

The anti-hero alighted next to a tree and shifted back into his civvies, the symbiote transforming and disguising itself as ordinary clothing. Eddie leaned against the tree facing it and sighed, thumping the bark in frustration.

"…I screwed up. I admit it, okay? I screwed up." His other didn't respond – he knew it wouldn't, and couldn't, after its little chat with Knull – but he could guess what it might have had to say. "The ambush was  _my_  idea. If I'd done it out on the road, away from a major population center, then it couldn't have hitched a ride on an onlooker. But…" He hung his head, sighing. "…I just couldn't wait. I… I just wanted to get it over with.  _End_  it, once and for all. I…" He shook his head. "I screwed up." He stared at the grass beneath his feet. "When I think about what happened in New York… what happened to that Osborn kid… I can't let it happen again. I  _won't."_

Eddie turned away from the tree, stuffing his hands in his pockets and scuffing the ground with his feet. "I can't track him, though. It's hidden itself from us before in the past, that much I know. Is that what it's doing now? Or is it just another one of Knull's dirty tricks?" He exhaled slowly. "Wish I could say… I'm not as familiar with eldritch monstrosities as you are, I'm imagining."

He smiled at his little comment, but his smile quickly fell, and he sighed. "…I wish I could talk to you – really _feel_  you, like we used to, you know?" He chuckled. "You'd know what to do…"

After a few moments of shifting his jaw back and forth, Eddie shook his head. "Well, I'm not going to get anywhere just moping and feeling sorry for myself. I'm on my own, now – I need to think this one out myself." He started pacing back and forth. "All right, Eddie, think – there's gotta be some kind of clue that you can follow up on…" He shut his eyes and wracked his brain, replaying the incident from earlier today in his mind over and over again in his head and trying to recall every little detail. There was the boy's distinct orange polo – that was a start. White hair, too – that would be hard to miss. What else? Freckles, a chipped tooth…

Eddie growled in exasperation after a few minutes. This was getting him nowhere, as usual. Perhaps he needed to think about this in a different way? After all, how hard would it be to find a kid in a town this –

The revelation hit him like a truck. "That's  _it!"_  he said, snapping his fingers.  _"School!_  There can't be many schools in a place like this! All I have to do is visit each of the schools until –" The realization came as he spoke, and he facepalmed. "Oh, wait – it's  _Saturday._  School won't be back in until Monday." He resumed pacing. "And I can't wait that long. Who knows what that thing will do to the poor kid in the meantime?" He sighed. "There's gotta be something else I can go on…"

His mind returned to the incident earlier. What  _else_  was there at the scene? He thought about it, scrutinizing the event moment by moment, frame by frame – and then it came to him.

Of course – how could he have been so stupid? The girl – there was a girl with him! His sister, most likely, or maybe a babysitter. He remembered how she cried and pleaded and fought him when he held the boy up in the air, shouting  _"No!"_  and  _"Put him down!"_  and  _"Lincoln!"…_

Eddie stopped. That's it. That was his name.

_Lincoln._

Eddie grinned victoriously – he figured it out all on his own, without the help of his other. It wasn't much, but now, he had a lead.

Now, he had a  _chance._

He cracked his knuckles and rolled his head around his shoulders, limbering up. "Okay… I don't care if it takes all day, or if I have to go between every door of every house, shop, and diner in this podunk town – I  _will_  find you, 'Lincoln'!"

And so, without further ado, he set off for the closest house to him. He had a lot of ground to cover…

(…)

With Lincoln and Leni back in the house, things returned to normal (i.e. chaotic), although the two's story sparked considerable interest in the subject matter. Lori, Leni, and Luna gossiped about their favorite superheroes in Lori and Leni's room; Luan discussed why she sometimes favored super _villains_  to super _heroes_  in the living room with Lisa, who read a book on biochemistry by Dr. Curt Connors and pretended to listen; Lucy wrote in her poetry book, inspired to write a ballad about a protector who hides in the shadows; and Lola shanghaied Lynn into playing princess and knight with her, much to Lynn's dismay.

"Don't you usually play this game with Lana?" Lynn said.

"Yeah," Lola responded, "but she's up in Lincoln's room, reading his stuffy old comics with him." She tossed her hair. "Superheroes…  _Hmph!_  They're all fine and dandy, but heroism  _really_  started in the age of chivalry – when brave and valorous knights protected beautiful princess from danger – like terrifying  _dragons!"_

On cue, Lily came lumbering towards Lola, wearing a pair of horns fashioned from empty toilet paper rolls. Waving her arms above her head and roaring in between giggles, she advanced on the damsel in distress.

" _Ahhh!"_  Lola cried, holding her hand to her forehead and swooning dramatically. "Save me, brave warrior!  _Ahhh!"_

Lynn rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide a smile. As much as she tried to deny it, playing with her little sisters was always a joy – even if she played a little rough sometimes. Holding aloft her plastic sword, Lynn charged in, shouting, "Fear not, fair mistress! I will protect thee from the foul beast!"

And as the three sisters played and laughed on the front lawn, Lana read Spider-Man comics with her big brother Lincoln in his room. Awed by the story he told, she was now fiercely interested in superheroes – and Lincoln was more than happy to give her a crash course on some of his favorites. He told her about Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, Wolverine, and many more, but what Lana really wanted to hear about was Spider-Man. Together, she and Lincoln read about some of Spidey's greatest exploits against foes like Doctor Octopus, the Green Goblin, Kraven the Hunter, and Venom. But as they read, something strange came over Lincoln. He couldn't explain it, but reading about his favorite hero gave him a gradually increasing sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Lana, nestled in between Lincoln's legs as they sat on his bed and he held the comic for them to read, looked up at him. "Hey, Lincoln?" she said.

"Yes, Lana?" Lincoln said.

"These stories are true, right?"

"Yep! Well, I mean, more or less."

"So how do these superheroes have true stories about them get published without revealing their secret identities?"

"Well, not  _all_  superheroes have a secret identity. Like Iron Man, for example – everyone knows he's Tony Stark, head of Stark Enterprises. And Captain America – everyone knows he's the World War II war hero Steve Rogers."

"But what about the others? How do they tell their stories without revealing their identities?"

"Well, see…" Lincoln pointed at the Marvel imprint on the front page. "…Marvel, the major superhero comic publishing house, is a subsidiary of Stark Enterprises. Tony Stark lets Marvel interview him or other superheroes about all the times they've fought crime and saved the world and stuff, and Marvel writes about them and their loved ones under aliases to protect their identities." He flipped to another page, in which Spider-Man was talking with his aunt and girlfriend. "See? It says Spider-Man's name is Patrick Perry, but that's not his  _real_  name, see?"

"Ohhh… So, Spider-Man's  _real_  aunt and girlfriend's names aren't Minnie Perry and Marie Holmes?"

"Exactly!"

Suddenly, Luna burst into the room, startling both Lincoln and Lana. It was only now that Lincoln became aware of a commotion going on downstairs. "Dudes!" Luna said. "Come downstairs – the superhero fight is on the news!"

Excitedly, Lincoln and Lana sprang to their feet and rushed downstairs with Luna. Finally, Lincoln thought, he could prove what he had said earlier.

In the living room, the Louds had congregated on and around the sofa. With all available seats taken, Luna stood in the back, while Lincoln and Lana sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, and they watched intently.

Channel 4 News reporter Katherine Mulligan was on the scene. "I'm Katherine Mulligan," she introduced herself, "coming to you live from downtown Royal Woods – ground zero for an epic fight between superhumans just hours before. This small, sleepy town has little in the way of interest for metahumans, but it regardless received a surprise visit from Eddie Brock, the human/alien hybrid known as Venom, and the one and only friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

Lincoln looked up at his sisters and pointed at the screen excitedly. "You see? You  _see?_  I told you!"

"Lincoln,  _shush!"_  Lori said, as she and the others watched intently.

"The incident began when a truck owned by the Alchemax chemical corporation was forcibly crashed into a nearby building, according to one eyewitness."

 _Alchemax…_  Lincoln thought.  _Now where have I heard that name before…?_

"It was crazy, man," the teenaged interviewee recounted on the screen. "At first, we, like, didn't know what was going on, it was just like,  _whoa,_  man, is anyone hurt? Is the driver okay? Then, all of a sudden, this huge black guy – I mean  _literally_  black, not just, you know,  _black_  – starts tearing the truck apart, you know? I think he was looking for something…"

"The witness ducked into a nearby store and recorded the scene on his cellphone." Footage of the scene began playing. "After ransacking the truck, Venom then unexpectedly turned on one of the bystanders, a young boy."

Lincoln's heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he came on screen. _"Quick! Pause it!"_  He grabbed the remote, paused the DVR, and pointed. _"Look!"_  he shouted.  _"Look, there I am! There I am, looklooklook!"_

His sisters exploded with activity. Some of them sprang to their feet, gesturing wildly, while others hugged Lincoln protectively, others paced back and forth, and all of them chattered about what they had just seen. Mr. and Mrs. Loud stopped preparing dinner to see what all the fuss was about.

"Kids, what's going on?" Mr. Loud asked.

"Mom,  _look!"_  Luan pointed at the TV. "Lincoln was telling the truth – there  _was_ a supervillain, and Lincoln got attacked by him!"

Mrs. Loud looked at the image and covered her mouth with both hands.  _"Oh my goodness…!"_  She ran up to Lincoln and pulled him into a hug. "My poor baby…! Are you okay?"

Lincoln returned the bone-crushing hug to the best of his ability.  _"Ugh…_  Mom, I told you, I'm fine." He grinned at Lynn, Lola, and Lisa, who happened to be standing together. "So, you believe me  _now?"_

"Well,  _I,_ for one, stand corrected, and admit to my fault," Lola said as if it were a big deal.

" _Hmph."_  Lisa adjusted her glasses. "Apologies, elder brother. It seems we should have placed more stock in your trustworthiness."

Lynn folded her arms and grumbled. Lincoln put a hand to his ear.

"What was that, Lynn?" he said smugly.

Lynn growled.  _"…were right…"_

"Speak up – we still can't hear you."

Scowling, Lynn stamped her foot petulantly. "I said,  _'you were right,'_  okay?! You were right, and I was wrong! Now drop it, or I'll drop  _you!"_  She raised her fist threateningly.

Lincoln shrugged and shook his head, still smiling. "Oh, Lynn…" he said, "…that's all I ever wanted to hear."

Mr. Loud joined the crowd.  _"Gosh,_  son!" he said. "How did you get out of there alive?"

"I already told you, didn't I?" Lincoln snapped impatiently, before blinking. Where did  _that_  come from? "I… I mean…" He picked up the remote. "Here, watch…"

He pressed  _play,_  and the Louds all watched together. "Okay, so there I was, about to become a supervillain's snack, when all of a sudden, in comes  _Spider-Man!"_

As if on cue, the footage displayed a manhole cover splitting Venom's head in two before Spider-Man swung into the shot. The Louds watched in awe and disbelief.

"Incredible…" Lisa said.

"And  _look!"_  Leni said. "There he is,  _talking to us!"_

Mr. Loud shook his head, amazed. "Well…! And here I thought superheroes only stuck to the big cities!"

"So much for your friendly  _'neighborhood'_  Spider-Man!" Luan said.  _"Hahahahaha!_  But seriously, out of all the superheroes out there, did it have to be  _him?"_

Lana turned to her. "What? What's wrong with Spider-Man?"

Luan shrugged. "I don't like him – it's as simple as that. I mean, he's great, as far as superheroes go, but I just don't like him as a  _person._  And it doesn't really make sense for him to be here. If you ask me, the Great Lakes Avengers should have been there – though, to be honest, the Great Lakes Avengers without Squirrel Girl is like the Golden State Warriors without Steph Curry. Or should I say, the Golden State Warriors  _before_  Steph Curry…"

"FYI," Lynn said, "the Golden State Warriors once had  _Wilt Chamberlain."_

"That'd be a lot more impactful if I knew who that  _was…"_

Smiling, but with the anger vein in her neck bulging, Lynn caught Luan in a chokehold. "Luan," she said, "you and I are going to have a little chat about some of the  _greatest basketball players of all time –_ but right now, it's chow time. Isn't that right, Dad?"

"You know it, LJ!" Mr. Loud clapped his hands. "All right, kids, we can talk about Lincoln and Leni's little run-in with superheroes over some Salisbury steak! Come on!"

The peckish Louds all got up and followed him to the dining room, where soon enough, dinner was served. For a change of pace, Mr. Loud had served Salisbury steak one day early and reserved Sunday for another experimental dish. The Louds all dug in, chatting about the incident earlier that day, and from there, superheroes in general.

"Oh, I'm just  _so_  glad my babies are safe," Mrs. Loud said.

"Yeah, me too," Lincoln said. "I thought I was gonna die for sure!"

"Wouldn't have been a huge loss if you had," Lori said.

"Yeah –" Lincoln did a double take. "Wait,  _what?!"_

Lori looked askance at him. "I said it would have been a huge loss if you had. What?"

Lincoln narrowed his eyes at her, then turned his gaze to his plate.

As the evening wore on, Lincoln listened to his family members prattle on about this and that, sometimes being host to a question or query of some form or another. He responded automatically, as if he were just going through the motions.

And the more he listened to his family talk… the more it sounded like  _they_ were going through the motions, as well.

Lincoln had long ceased listening to what exactly they were saying, but he knew, deep down in his heart, that it was all…  _meaningless._  That there was no real  _substance_  to it. It was all so… how did the guy from  _The Catcher in the Rye_  put it?  _"Phony"?_  Yeah, that described it pretty well. None of them really said what they  _meant –_  said what they  _really_  felt. Everything they did,  _said,_  was so inconsequential. With that in mind, could he really believe his family whenever they said that they loved him? Or were they just going through the motions, like always?

Lincoln shook his head slowly, simmering. He didn't care about their love – not anymore. He wanted something that  _mattered._

Charles nagged at him again from under the table, begging for some scraps of food. Lana would've been happy to oblige him, but for some reason, his attention was drawn to Lincoln. Lincoln peeked under the table at the family dog, and a devious idea popped into his head. Looking back up, he announced, "I'm full. May I be excused?"

"Sure, son!" Mr. Loud said.

Lincoln stood up and brought his plate to the kitchen. At the sink, he took what was left of the Salisbury steak and dumped the rest in the garbage disposal. "Here, Charles," Lincoln said, waving the Salisbury steak enticingly. "Want some Salisbury steak? Here, boy…"

Charles stood on his hind legs, begging for the meat. Grinning, Lincoln led him down the stairs into the basement, closing the door behind them. At the foot of the steps, Charles whined, and Lincoln threw him the scrap of meat.

"Good boy…" Lincoln said as Charles snapped up the Salisbury steak. "That's a good boy…" He reached for the tool table, grabbing the cordless drill.

"Now why don't we  _play_   _together?"_

Lincoln fired up the drill and drove it into Charles's right thigh, shocking the canine and making him whine and scream in agony. Laughing, Lincoln watched him try to limp away up the steps, but he grabbed him by his bad leg and yanked him back down to the bottom, drilling another hole in his left hind foot. As he drilled hole after hole in Charles, the tingling sensation from earlier returned – and Lincoln realized that he enjoyed it.  _This_  was meaningful – giving yourself power over the lives of others, deciding their fates yourself.

 _That_  was something worth living for.

After a while, all that was left of poor Charles was a steaming, quivering pile of blood, guts, and fur. Lincoln stood up, admiring his handiwork. Suddenly, he heard a bloodcurdling scream, and he looked up to see his mother looking down at him from the top of the stairs with pure horror.

"Lincoln…!  _Lincoln…!"_

" _LINCOLN!"_

Lincoln snapped out of his reverie to find himself back at the dinner table. "H-Huh?! What?"

Lincoln looked around in confusion. Here he was, sitting at the dinner table, when he thought he was in the basement. He looked down at his plate – exactly the way it was before he disposed of it. He felt Charles nudging his legs again, asking to be fed. It was as if what had just happened…  _hadn't._

"Earth to Lincoln!" Luan said.

"Wh –  _Oh!_  Oh, s-sorry, Luan, what is it?" Lincoln asked.

"Could you pass the salt,  _please?"_

Lincoln looked at the salt shaker in front of him, and without another word, he passed it to her. That done, Luan seasoned her steak and returned to her conversation with the others. Lincoln, meanwhile, poked at his food. There it was again, another  _hallucination –_  this one just as bloody and violent as the last, if not more so. Why would he ever fantasize about torturing Charles, let alone enjoy it so much? That wasn't him!

But… if it was wrong… then why did it feel so  _right?_

"Lincoln?"

Lincoln jumped. Once again, Lucy had startled him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he said, "Yes, Lucy?"

"Is something wrong?"

"I –" Lincoln paused. He knew that he should tell them, but really, how could he tell them about something like  _that?_

For now, the answer was clear: he  _couldn't._  So, he  _wouldn't._

Lincoln scooped up some corn and meat with his fork. "…Nothing," he said. "Nothing's wrong."


	2. An Itch In The Brain

The Quinjet cut through the air over the Michigan forest, its engines humming quietly. Spider-Man settled into his seat comfortably. Thanks to redesigns by his former company, Parker Industries, the new and improved Quinjet was both fast _and_ subtle – although he was beginning to miss the grand entrances the Avengers used to make. Spider-Man appreciated Iron Man’s gesture of lending him a Quinjet for his travel to the Great Lakes region, but he still wished he could web-swing quietly through the trees – but that would take too long.

So, the hero reclined in his seat and contented himself with the knowledge that he would be at his destination soon. Before the paramedics took him to the hospital, the driver of the Alchemax truck that Venom had ransacked told him his intended destination: Alchemax’s secret facility hidden deep within backwoods Michigan,  where the truck was hauling its payload before being intercepted by Venom.– Spider-Man counted his lucky stars that he had met one adult who _didn’t_ fear and revile him, but instead looked up to him as the hero he always tried to be.

Spider-Man narrowed his eyes. The business with the Great Lakes Avengers could wait – right now, he needed _answers._

“We’re approaching the Alchemax facility, Spider-Man,” one of the SHIELD pilots said.

Spider-Man nodded. “Good. Put us down outside the base’s perimeter.”

The pilots landed the Quinjet in a clearing, and the cargo compartment opened. Spidey stood up, stretched, and started towards the exit. “I’ll go on foot from here. Radio if anything pops up, and, uh, just… try to keep a low profile, ‘kay?”

The pilot-in-command held up the “OK” sign. “Understood.”

Spider-Man slung a web at a high branch of a nearby tree. “I won’t be long!” he called as he leapt out of the jet, and soon he was swinging through the trees like a modern Tarzan. The night was dark, but Spidey’s trusty Spider Sense guided him through the shrouded forest to the Alchemax facility.

The facility was situated at the end of an obscure, winding forest road, far from any major roads or highways. Spider-Man couldn’t help but be impressed by its secretive location – if he hadn’t received the exact coordinates from the truck driver, he never would have been able to find this place. Despite this, security was no slouch – armed guards patrolled the perimeter and stood guard at the main gate, as well as atop watchtowers along the fence, where beams from searchlights swept across the grounds, scanning for intruders.

“Impressive…” Spider-Man whispered to himself, “…but let’s see if they can catch a trespasser in bright red-and-blue spandex.”

Leaping from tree to tree, the superhero watched the patrols pass by, waited for his opportunity, then darted towards the fence and scaled the chain link with practiced ease. Landing on the other side, Spider-Man hid at the base of a watchtower, observing the patterns of the searchlights’ movements. Every time he saw a chance, he seized it, dashing across open ground before ducking behind cover, waiting for the next opening.

Thanks to his ever-useful Spider Sense, Spider-Man traversed the Alchemax facility and made his way inside the main building via an air vent. He moved slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, until he reached a grate, where he popped out. Sticking to the ceiling, he crept through the halls, webbing security cameras to conceal his presence when necessary.

“All right, Pete, think,” Spider-Man told himself. “What’s here that Alchemax is so desperate to keep secret?” He scratched his chin, thinking. “Hmmm… Maybe understanding what they’re all about will give me a hint… Let’s see…” After a few more moments, it came to him. _“Aha!_ If they’re anything like Oscorp – and to put it lightly, they’re a _lot_ like Oscorp – then they must have top-secret testing and research facilities! That must be what this place is!” He descended the walls and alighted back on the floor. “So, a truck headed for a top-secret research facility headed by a multi-billion-dollar chemical company gets attacked by Venom. _Why?_ What could that truck have been carrying that Venom was so interested in?”

Spidey’s train of thought was interrupted by a door opening at the end of the hallway. He ducked behind a pillar, then climbed back up the wall and followed a stern woman wearing business attire and black hair pulled tightly into a bun, and the nervous, balding man in a lab coat trying to keep up with her.

“…do you mean, you’ve _‘lost it’?!”_ the woman barked. “Do you have _any_ idea how valuable that specimen is to Alchemax – and how dangerous it can be if not properly contained?!”

“I-I _do,_ Mrs. Douglas!” the man responded. “B-But, but –”

“But _what?!_ Let me remind you that you are on _thin ice,_ Doctor – I’d better not hear anything but the _best_ of excuses!”

 _“Eep—!”_ Even from this distance, Spider-Man could hear the man gulp. “P-Please, let me explain!”

 _“Ten seconds,_ doctor! I’m listening…”

Spidey had to bite his tongue to stop himself from quipping, _“Correction – WE’RE listening.”_

The man cleared his throat. “T-T-The truck carrying the New York shipment was attacked en route, i-in a town called Royal Woods.”

 _“Attacked?_ By whom?”

“Um… Th-The driver’s description of the sole assailant matches that of Eddie Brock, also known as Venom.”

“Brock?” Mrs. Douglas sighed, driving her glasses upwards as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “That man just won’t take _‘no’_ for an answer… How did he find out about the transfer of the specimen to this facility?”

“Uh, M-McCullum thinks it’s highly likely that there was a security leak somewhere in the New York division.”

“I’ll send a memo to have it investigated and plugged up. So, if the specimen has vanished, and Brock attacked its transport, then it’s possible Brock may have consumed the specimen, as he expressed a strong interest in doing when he contacted us?”

“I-It’s possible… though it’s also possible that the specimen escaped containment entirely.”

Mrs. Douglas shook her head. _“Damn…_ Then, there’s no hope of tracking it?”

“There may be. The specimen prefers to have a host for greater mobility and, we believe, out of a desire for companionship. That said, this particular specimen is more, uh, well… _dangerous,_ as you know. S-So, uh, it’ll likely use its host to, u-uh…”

“I _know,_ I _know,”_ Mrs. Douglas snapped. “Another repeat of New York…”

“W-What are we going to do, ma’am?”

Mrs. Douglas adjusted her glasses. “We’ll send McCullum and two retrieval squads to Royal Woods immediately. Eddie Brock will be found and co-opted, peacefully or otherwise, and the specimen will be tracked down and retrieved by any means necessary.” She turned to look at her cringing subordinate. “Hmmm… Brock is attached to that symbiote of his, is he not?”

“W-Well, uh, b-based on our evidence –”

“That was a rhetorical question, Dr. Dooley. Of course he is.” She turned back around. “If we can extract it from him, we could hold it hostage in exchange for his cooperation. Of course, we’d be under no obligation to return it to him afterwards, but that’s another matter entirely.” She jabbed a finger at Dr. Dooley, who stopped dead in his tracks. _“Doctor._ You are to synthesize enough gene cleanser to supply McCullum and his teams twice over for the extractions of both Eddie Brock’s symbiote and our specimen from whichever unfortunate host it’s latched onto. Is that understood?”

Dr. Dooley wiped his brow. “W-Well, I-I mean, I, I-I-I understand, m-ma’am, but… but, it’ll take _time_ to –”

“I want the batch ready by tomorrow morning. That’s _plenty_ of time. Isn’t it?”

Dr. Dooley slumped his shoulders, sighing. “…Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. And it’d better be ready by then, because I don’t think I have to tell you what a PR nightmare this will be if our specimen causes a disruptive incident that gets linked back to us, irrespective of any superhuman incitation and involvement. We’ll have to set up press conferences to issue apologies, hire lawyers for each and every lawsuit, pay damages, silence nosy investigators… and throw a few people under the bus to satisfy the mob.” Mrs. Douglas got right up in the timid doctor’s face. _“Expendable_ people. Like _you._ Oh, you might _think_ you’re valuable, but it doesn’t take a Ph. D to mix chemicals in the right proportions. Is that understood?”

Dr. Dooley nodded. “Y-Y- _Yes,_ ma’am!”

Mrs. Douglas adjusted her glasses again, the glint of the light off the lenses obscuring her eyes. “…I’m not deaf, Doctor. I hear the things you and the others say about me behind my back – rude, _vulgar_ terms for me. Understand that I am hard, but fair. I _always_ let my subordinates know what to expect, and that guarantees hard work – and _results.”_ She pointed at Dr. Dooley. “So – gene cleanser. Standard and reserve supplies. Tomorrow morning. _Or else.”_ She turned her back to him. “Best get started, Doctor.”

With that, Mrs. Douglas strode away with perfect poise and bearing. Dr. Dooley, meanwhile, stumbled towards the labs, leaning against the wall for support and mumbling about needing a pot of coffee and some clean underwear.

And Spider-Man released his held breath, exhaling slowly. _“Whew…_ I’ve seen some pretty scary stuff in my time as a hero, but _that_ definitely takes the cake. That woman is _terrifying._ No wonder she’s in charge around here…” He lowered himself down to the floor again and crouched. “All right, now where does that leave me?”

Spidey contemplated the new information he had learned. Almost instantly, like a jigsaw puzzle, all the pieces just started coming together to form a perfect picture.

The gene cleanser.

Meant not only for Venom, but for something else.

Something Venom was _very_ eager to find.

Held and transported by Alchemax.

From New York.

“No…” Spider-Man stood up and leaned against the wall weakly. “Oh, no, no, _no, no…!”_

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself away from the wall. “Royal Woods… I’ve gotta get back to Royal Woods!” He ran down the hall a short distance, then stopped. “Wait – I can’t just rush in unprepared. Not against…” Spidey shuddered. His own cringing reminded him of that cowardly doctor – then he got an idea.

Spider-Man started back down the halls again. _Sorry, boys,_ he thought, _but it looks like I’ll be a bit longer getting back to the Quinjet than intended…_

(…)

The talk about superheroes and supervillains continued all throughout dinner, and even the parents participated – but the boy that had inspired all the talk was strangely silent. Evening gave way to night, and the Louds all bathed and went to bed. Light after light clicked off, and by midnight, everyone in the Loud house was asleep.

Everyone, that is, except Lincoln Loud.

Lincoln lay awake in his bed, listening carefully. Not a creature was stirring all through the house, and the only noise he could hear outside was the crickets playing their chirping songs. Slowly, quietly, he cast aside his sheets and sat up, swinging his legs over the side and gently setting them down on the floor. He carefully stood, minimizing the creaking of the mattress, and took his sweet time opening his door, peering out into the dark hallway.

Every one of his sisters’ doors was closed. Lincoln crept out into the hallway on his tiptoes, listening carefully at each door for any sign of activity. As far as he could tell, he was the only one still awake.

Lincoln took a deep breath, steadying himself. It was time.

Quiet as a mouse, Lincoln danced down the stairs, having learned over a lifetime in the house where the creaky spots were, and through the dining room into the kitchen, where he set upon searching for a matchbox. He eventually found one high up on a cabinet shelf, far from the grasp of a careless child, but which Lincoln was easily able to reach standing on a chair. He opened the matchbox, saw that he had more than enough matches for what he planned to do, and popped out the back door into the backyard.

From there, he made his way to the garage, where he quickly found the jerrycan containing spare diesel. Lincoln sloshed the jerrycan’s contents around, feeling its weight. Almost full – that was good. He’d need it for a thorough job.

Lincoln went back inside, and immediately set about splashing fuel everywhere, starting at the backdoor entrance and moving through the house to Mom and Dad’s door, and from there up the stairs and on each of his sisters’ doors. He wanted to douse the insides of their rooms as well, but he couldn’t risk waking them up, so he made sure their bedroom doors were thoroughly soaked before covering the bathroom and his room.

Lincoln started moving with more urgency – it wouldn’t be long until one or more of his parents or sisters smelled the pungent fumes and woke up. He descended the stairs, feet squelching against the soaked carpet, and opened the front door, pouring the remainder of the diesel on the front porch and tossing the empty jerrycan aside.

Trembling with anticipation, his mouth twisted into a savage grin, Lincoln drew a match from the box, and after a few strikes, it lit up. Lincoln watched the match burn for a few seconds, then looked up at the house, stepping back.

“Good morning, Loud family,” he said, “this is your wake-up call!”

With that, he tossed the lit match onto the porch, and watched as the fuel ignited and flames raced across the aged, dry wood and into the house, following the paths that Lincoln had laid for them. The flames climbed the stairs and gnawed at the furniture, and singes turned to burns turned to open flames.

The heat radiating from the fire quickly became intense. Lincoln stepped back, squinting, as the first screams started ringing out from the second floor. It was hard to tell over the conflagration, but it sounded like Lola. It made sense – she was the one with the most sensitive nose, after all. But it wasn’t long before more voices joined hers, as the smell of smoke banished sleep and realization dawned on each of his family members, soon resulting in a chorus of screams and shrieks.

Lincoln watched the rickety old house light up with sadistic glee, laughing as some of his sisters opened the windows and began screaming for help. But their cries came too late, as the old, rotted beams of the house quickly caught fire and lit up with a blaze. Soon, the calls for help devolved into agonized screams, and Lincoln knew that his family was burning alive.

The thought filled him with delight.

As Lincoln leaned back with his arms folded, admiring his handiwork, he heard a booming, satisfied chuckle echo across what seemed like the cosmos themselves. The voice it belonged to was low, rumbling, and sinister, like the sound of plates of rock splitting during an earthquake.

 _“Good,”_ the voice thundered, _“very good…”_

The voice reverberated across the heavens, and Lincoln staggered from their impact. Looking up at the sky, he at first saw the night sky, same as always, but suddenly found his gaze drifting far past his planet’s atmosphere and across spacetime, to a planet far beyond the reaches of the solar system. There, he could sense an ancient, formidable power stirring within, trapped but probing, conscious but immobile.

And he could feel its eyes on him.

_“You will serve me well…”_

And then Lincoln saw it: a pair of eyes, pitch black except for their blood-red pupils – the most malevolent eyes he had ever seen.

**_“…my child.”_ **

Lincoln awoke with a start, bolting upright. Drenched in sweat, he clutched his chest in a futile attempt to slow his hammering heart and looked around, realizing that he was back in his bed, in his non-burning house. Dawn had just given way to morning, and the first slivers of sunlight were creeping through his window.

Lincoln swallowed a thick glob of saliva. _A… A dream?_ he thought. _A dream… Yes, I fell asleep. But…!_ He shook his head. _But what kind of a dream was THAT?! I…! I burned down the house! I KILLED my family! Why…?_ As he recalled further details of his dream, he started shaking involuntarily. _A-And that… thing… Th-Those EYES… That… That… wasn’t…_

Lincoln didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Instead, he huddled into a corner of the bed, with his knees pulled in to his chest, and rocked back and forth.

“Why…?” he whispered. “Why do I keep having these… _visions?_ I-I want to say they’re just _thoughts,_ but… they seem so _real!_ Like I was actually there! Maybe –” Lincoln gasped. “Maybe… Maybe I _was_ there…” He clutched the sides of his head with both hands. “Oh, what does it _mean?_ What’s going _on?_ I…” He shook his head. “No, no, I _couldn’t_ be! It wasn’t _real!_ And I… I’d never hurt anyone…! Not like _that…!”_

Unfortunately, his words rang hollow even to him, and that only tore Lincoln up inside even more. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt him, and so he pulled away from the dark thoughts.

He grabbed Bun-Bun and held the stuffed rabbit close to his chest as he rocked back and forth. “…Think happy thoughts, Lincoln,” he told himself. “Think happy thoughts… think happy thoughts… think happy thoughts…”

As the minutes passed, Lincoln’s sisters woke up and started getting ready, as evidenced from the Loud house’s trademark hustle and bustle outside his door. Lincoln held his breath, listening to them file in towards the bathroom. They chatted and squabbled amongst themselves, tired though they were so early in the morning – same as always. These were his sisters; his flesh and blood; the girls that he had been raised with and by, whom he had known all his life.

And he had dreamed about cooking them inside their own house.

Lincoln trembled. How would he tell them? Did he _have_ to tell them? Well… of course he did! How else would he resolve this problem? Then again, they’re called “personal” problems for a reason – the last thing he wanted was to cause a burden on the household. And he was sure they didn’t want to hear about how he’d brutally murdered them in his dreams… Also, for some reason, he didn’t want to be near them. Maybe it was his fantasies that made him afraid to go near them for fear of actually hurting them. Or maybe he was still sick of their banality. But –

A thought occurred to Lincoln. He’d seen things that weren’t real, right? Leni telling him she hated him and getting run over by a bus… because he’d pushed her; Charles dying a horrible, painful death… at his hands. Those weren’t real; neither was his dream. Was _this_ real, then? If it wasn’t, then could he do whatever he wanted without consequence? But what if it _was?_ How could he tell?

Fantasy and reality were blurring – it was all so strange…

But strangest of all was this indescribable feeling he had. It felt like… unfulfillment? Ennui? Something like that, except it nagged at him constantly, impossible to ignore. What _was_ it?

Lincoln shook his head. In case this was real, he had to get himself under control. “Rein in those fantasies, Lincoln. Just… ignore that feeling. Keep cool.” He took a deep breath. “Happy thoughts…”

He waited until his sisters were all finished with the bathroom (despite the mounting call of nature) and headed downstairs for breakfast. Once the noises relocated themselves downstairs, he took a peek out into the hallway to make sure they were all gone, and then went to the bathroom.

As Lincoln relieved himself, feeling the tension release, something occurred to him. Maybe that feeling was a call of some sort as well? If so, how could he answer it? He pondered the feeling, looking for an answer, as he washed up.

 _“Lincoln!”_ Mr. Loud called from downstairs. _“You up there?”_

He must have heard the toilet flushing, seen everyone else downstairs, and put two and two together. Lincoln sighed. _“…Yeah!”_ he answered.

_“Come on down – your breakfast is getting cold!”_

Lincoln gripped the edge of the sink. He knew this was coming, and he couldn’t avoid it any longer – he had to face his sisters. _“…Be right down!”_

He cupped his hands, filled them with water, and washed his face, rubbing the weariness away. _…You can do this, Lincoln,_ he thought. _They love you, and you love them. You’re still you._

He looked at himself in the mirror…

…and a red and black monster stared back at him.

Lincoln yelped, falling onto his butt and scrabbling back, hyperventilating.

 _“Lincoln?”_ Mrs. Loud said. _“What’s wrong?”_

Lincoln turned his head in the direction of her voice, then stood himself up on shaking legs and rubbed his eyes. Taking another hesitant gaze into the mirror, he saw his own normal reflection in it. He breathed a sigh of relief, then perked up and shook his head.

“Get a grip, Lincoln,” he told himself. “It’s not real. It’s _not.”_ He turned back to his mother. _“Nothing! Just saw a spider…”_

Leni and Mr. Loud both shrieked. _“Did you kill it?!”_ Leni asked.

He paused, then stomped his foot loudly. _“Yeah, it’s dead!”_

Shutting off the faucet, Lincoln took a deep breath and exited the bathroom, heading downstairs. He spared his sisters a passing glance, which they acknowledged in turn, then grabbed his breakfast from the kitchen and sat down at the dinner table to eat. His parents and each of his sisters now greeted him properly.

“Good morning, sweetie!”

“Morning, son!”

“Morning, Lincoln.”

“Good morning, Linky!”

“Mornin’, bro.”

“Morning, Linc!”

“‘Bout time! Missed you in the line for the bathroom…”

“The morning sun has vanquished the horrible night…”

“Good morning, Linky!”

“Morning, Lincoln!”

“Salutations on this pleasant morning, elder brother.”

_“Poo-poo!”_

Lincoln poked at his food and grunted in response.

The others were a bit put off by this, and so Mrs. Loud investigated. “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

Lincoln froze. “Uh…”

Everyone picked up on his unease. “Something wrong, Lincoln?” Leni asked.

Lincoln’s mouth curled into a nervous smile. They were _definitely_ onto him – how would he get them to back off? He briefly considered telling them the truth, but this momentary consideration gave him an idea. Perhaps he didn’t have to tell them the _whole_ truth?

He put down his fork, sighing. “I… had a bad dream last night.”

“What about?” Lynn asked.

“Um… I… I was… I was outside, on the lawn, and… the house was on fire, with all of you inside.”

The other Louds gasped. _“Oh my gosh!”_ Leni exclaimed. “How horrible!”

Mrs. Loud got up and walked over to Lincoln, rubbing his back. “Oh, poor baby… You must have felt so helpless to do anything…”

He wasn’t unable to do anything – and the _really_ horrible part was what he _did_ do. Lincoln averted his gaze. “Uh-huh…”

“Dudes,” Luna said, “do you think that harsh dream had something to do with… with what happened to Lincoln yesterday?”

Luna’s theory gave Lincoln pause. These visions of his only started happening after he got caught in the middle of a kerfuffle between supers – could something have happened to him then that started causing them? Lincoln thought about it…

…and then it came to him. Of course – how could he have been so _blind?_ Venom, the truck – it all made sense now!

Clearly, the concussion he’d sustained at the site of the incident was the cause of his new… _thought patterns!_ Yes, that _had_ to be it!

Meanwhile, Lisa pondered Luna’s postulate. “Hmmm… it _is_ possible,” she said. “As you know, I’ve dabbled in the soft sciences, including psychology. It’s possible that Lincoln may be experiencing post-traumatic stress, a symptom of which is these nightmares which emphasize his helplessness in the face of danger…”

“Or…” Lincoln interrupted, “It might be because of my head injury!”

Everyone looked at Lincoln. _“Huh?”_

“Think about it, guys – back there, when the truck crashed yesterday, I banged my head on something and passed out. Maybe _that’s_ the reason why I’m having such bad dreams!” he said, neglecting to inform them of his other suspicion that it may also be causing a shift in his attitude.

Lisa scratched her chin. “I’ve never heard of any cases of head injuries causing night terrors before…”

“Well, why don’t you take a look for any serious damage, just to be safe?”

Lisa squinted her eyes at Lincoln, then shrugged. “…I suppose it couldn’t hurt to examine every possible avenue.”

The child prodigy got out of her chair, dragged it across the room next to Lincoln’s seat, and stood on it. “If you would kindly present your cranial contusion so that I may inspect it?”

Lincoln acquiesced, parting his hair and showing his wound to Lisa, who took on a bemused expression. “…The issue may be less serious – or far _more_ serious – than anticipated,” she said. “Lincoln, are you _certain_ that this is where you suffered a blow to your head?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Lincoln said. “Leni can back me up, right, Leni? You were there with me that day – you saw that I got hit, and where!”

Put on the spot, Leni looked around the table sheepishly before getting up and walking over to Lincoln. She pointed at the spot Lincoln was indicating. “It was right there,” she said.

“There! You see?” Lincoln blinked. “Wait – _‘was’…?”_

Leni twiddled her fingers, not knowing what to make of this or how exactly to say it. “L-Lincoln, your owie is…” She shrugged helplessly.

“…It’s _gone.”_

Lincoln stared at her, taken aback. _“‘Gone’?”_

Lisa inspected the area of skull Lincoln had parted his hair from. “No discoloration, no protrusions… Any pain when I apply pressure to this area, Lincoln?”

“No…” Lincoln shook his head. “But that’s… _impossible!_ Bruises don’t heal overnight… do they? N-No, they don’t – B-But – Oh, man…”

Lincoln slumped. This just kept getting weirder and weirder. And to make matters worse, that odd feeling, which had never left, was building to a point where it vexed him physically, and his fingers started twitching. Disparate, jumbled thoughts raced through his head, and trying to sort through them all wore down his patience.

“This warrants further investigation,” Lisa concluded. “Elder brother, if you would kindly submit to some tests to determine the cause of this rapid recovery…?”

Lincoln exhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. Here he was, experiencing a mystery, an attack of conscience, _and_ a crisis of identity to deal with all at once, and she wanted to indulge in the usual “Lisa Loud mad science”? Clearly, she only had a mind for _her_ desires, and no regard for _his_ feelings, and he intended to take her to task for it.

 _“‘Tests’?”_ he said. “You want to run _‘tests’_ on me? Wh-What am I to you, Lisa – a _lab rat?_ Is that it? _Huh?_ Don’t tell me that this is strictly personal – that your precious _‘science’_ won’t benefit from these tests you intend to run with your own _brother_ as a _guinea pig!”_

Lisa narrowed her eyes and frowned at Lincoln. “…I don’t appreciate your insinuations,” she said in an icy tone, “nor your jumping to conclusions or your refusal of aid offered in good faith.”

“Oh, don’t act like you’ve never used us to test out your insane inventions, Lisa! A-And _hey –_ when’s the last time you did something with your skillset that benefitted _all_ of us, huh? Instead of, of serving your random whims?” Lincoln stood up. “I mean, _trash monsters;_ _killer robots; snow tanks?!_ For all your pretensions of genius intellect, Lisa, at your core, you’re just a selfish, immature 4-year-old girl!”

Lincoln stormed away from the table and up the stairs to his room, leaving a stunned family and a fuming Lisa behind. _“This_ is what I get for trying to help…?” Lisa said through gritted teeth.

 “The nerve of him!” Mrs. Loud said. She stood up. “I’m going to go up there and –”

Mr. Loud stopped her. “Rita, _wait!_ You’re going to scold him, after he nearly got eaten by that… _thing?”_

“Surviving an attack by a supervillain does _not_ give him an excuse to act that way towards his sisters!”

 “Mom, Dad,” Leni said, “I think I know what’s wrong. Linky’s still… _scared…_ from what happened yesterday. I’m sure of it. I mean, it was scary enough for _me,_ and I’m not the one who almost got eaten! I bet he’s just acting strong, trying not to be a bother, as usual. But he needs our help, whether he wants it or not.”

The Louds looked at each other, considering what Leni had just said. Lori chuckled after a short while. “That’s Leni for you – always thinking about others…”

“But… if that’s true, then what are we gonna do, dudes?” Luna wondered. “You saw how he blew up at Lise for trying to help…”

Lana scratched her chin. “…When animals get scared, they often lash out in fear. Whenever one of my babies is scared, I just spend some time with them, take it slow, show them some love, and eventually, they relax and go back to normal. Maybe that’s all Lincoln needs – a little love.” An idea occurred to her. “Leave it to me, guys.”

(…)

Back in his room, Lincoln had slammed the door and flopped down onto the bed, steaming. _Stupid Lisa,_ he thought. _Who does she think she is, trying to… t-trying to…_

He sat up. “…Trying to help,” he said aloud. He sighed, leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Way to go, Lincoln – you antagonized the one person in this house who might have figured out what’s wrong with you.” He hopped off the bed and started to pace back and forth. “And what _is_ wrong with me? I mean, first the _hallucinations,_ then the _dreams,_ and now _this?_ Why am I so… so… _confrontational_ all of a sudden? It can’t be my head – can it? I mean, if it’s already healed… B-But _how_ has it already healed? And if it’s not my head, then _what is it?”_ He sat back down on the bed. “Ugh, it’s all so confusing… so _frustrating…”_

He rested his face in his hands and sighed again. Then, his eyes widened as he became aware of it again. He gritted his teeth, digging his fingernails into his cheeks. “…And this _stupid_ feeling I’m having is _not helping!”_

He jumped back off the bed, swatting at his model plane hanging from his clothes rack. What _was_ that feeling? That feeling of restlessness, of irritation; that feeling that was driving him _crazy._ The feeling that he _had_ to do something, although he didn’t know what. Lincoln grasped at something, _anything_ he could compare it to, if only to make it easier to pinpoint the exact feeling (and perhaps, how to satisfy it). It was like… It was like…

Lincoln scratched his head, thinking – and the small relief the action gave him brought him to a eureka moment.

_…Like an itch._

That was it – that was exactly what it was! An itch that couldn’t be scratched! An itch that went deeper than the skin – an itching in… the soul? No – the _brain!_ That’s what it was – an itch in the brain!

Lincoln clapped his hands. Now he had a name for the problem – the question now was, how would he _solve_ it? How would he scratch that itch?

Lincoln resumed pacing, gnawing on his lower lip. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure what the itching was about, so it would take a lot of trial and error to figure out how to scratch it. So, how did one deal with an itch without scratching it? Lincoln thought about it, and remembered how his sisters had practically mummified him in gauze after only receiving a paper cut. Oh, they could be _so_ overbearing sometimes – like that time when they urged him to kiss Ronnie Anne, and he’d gotten a black eye for his trouble! And speaking of, how about the time Lori dragged him on a double date with Bobby and Ronnie Anne, all to save _her_ relationship? Really, most of the time, his sisters only ever seemed to look out for themselves. Like that time he’d scoped out the “sweet spot” in the van, all by himself –

Lincoln blinked. He stopped pacing and took a deep breath. “…You’re getting off-topic, Lincoln,” he told himself. _“Focus.”_ After another deep breath, he sat down on the bed. “…So, how to scratch an itch without scratching it, right? Well, when I was all wrapped up in bandages, I had an itch in my, uh… W-Well, I just ignored it, and eventually, it went away.” He stood up. “M-Maybe _that’s_ it! I just have to ignore the itch until it goes away!”

Just as Lincoln began to think about ways to ignore the itch, he heard a knock on his door. “Who is it?” he asked.

 _“It’s Lana!”_ came the response from the other side.

Lana… After his little outburst downstairs, he could probably guess what she and the others wanted. Slumping his shoulders, Lincoln sighed and prepared to get it over with. He opened the door and looked down at his tomboyish sister. “…Okay, about what happened back there…” He shook his head. “…Tell Lisa I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know where that came from.”

“Will do.” Lana strolled into Lincoln’s room… and their sisters cautiously peeked their heads out into the hallway to watch his reaction. Sure enough, Lincoln was irritated, but this time, he kept it under control. “And it’s okay, Lincoln. I understand.”

“You –” That caught Lincoln off guard. “R-Really? You _do?”_

“Sure!” She turned and looked up at him. “Lisa runs experiments on all of us without our permission. I’d be suspicious of her, too, if I were you…”

“Oh…” Lincoln rubbed the back of his head. _“Heh, heh…_ yeah…”

“Anyways…” She hopped up on Lincoln’s bed, bouncing on it a little. “Can we read some more comics?”

“Comics?” Lincoln thought about it, remembering how much fun Lana had had reading Marvel comics with him yesterday – and how much fun he’d had reading them with her. _Comics…_ he thought. _Yeah… Maybe… Maybe that’s what I need… to take my mind off this itch…_

Lincoln nodded. “Yeah, comics… comics sound good. Yeah…”

“All right!” Lana cheered, while surreptitiously giving a thumbs-up to her sisters through the open doorway. The other sisters looked at Leni, who nodded in satisfaction, and, seeing as how their brother was spending quality time with one of their number, they all went about their own Sunday activites.

All, that is, except for Lola, who watched Lincoln close the door with heartfelt longing. She could name at least five activities that she could idle herself with right off the bat.

But without Lana…

Lola sighed. Without Lana, it just wasn’t the same.

Steeling her resolve, she walked up and knocked on Lincoln’s door. Lana answered, looking at Lola inquisitively.

“What is it, Lola?” Lana said.

Lola fidgeted, holding her hands behind her back. “Um…” Her gaze was focused on the floor. “Can… Can I join you two?”

Lana looked at her twin incredulously. “Wha – _really?_ Lola, I – I thought you didn’t like comic books…”

 “No…” Lola raised her gaze to meet Lana’s. “…but _you_ do.”

Lana’s eyes widened, and she gaped at her sister. Lola – the most selfish person she knew – was setting aside her dislikes to do something that _she_ enjoyed. At a loss for words, she looked to her older brother. “Uh… Lincoln…?”

Lincoln didn’t understand what Lana was so awed by, but regardless, he shrugged his shoulders. “…Fine by me,” he said.

Clapping her hands joyfully, Lola stepped into Lincoln’s room and closed the door behind her – and was immediately greeted with the sight of Lincoln stripping down to his underwear, as he always did when he read comics at home.

 Lola recoiled. _“Eugh…_ I know we have to accept each other’s gross habits, but still… _Eugh…”_

Lincoln shot her an annoyed glare. “You have rituals that make _you_ happy, and I have _mine.”_

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” Lola hopped up onto Lincoln’s bed. “So, got any comics that I might actually be interested in?”

Lincoln scratched his head. “Hmm…” He snapped his fingers. _“Oh!_ I’ve got it!”

He pulled out one of the drawers of his dresser containing his many comics and rifled through them until he found the one he was looking for, and presented it to Lola. “Here – _Black Widow._ The _femme fatale_ to end all _femme fatales._ She’s right up your alley, Lola.”

 _“Ooh…!”_ Lola took the comic eagerly, eyeing it up and down.

With Lola occupied, Lincoln turned to Lana. “So, Lana, any particular superheroes you want to read about? There’s a few we haven’t discussed yet… let’s see, there’s, uh… Daredevil… Captain Marvel… Luke Cage… the Fantastic Four –”

 _“Spider-Man!”_ Lana said, bouncing on her feet.

Lincoln’s face fell. “Oh… of course…” It was so strange – Spider-Man was one of his favorite superheroes – maybe his _favorite_ superhero, period. So why did thinking about him now fill Lincoln with… disgust? No, too strong – _distaste?_ Better.

Regardless, he was the one Lana wanted to read about, so read about him they must. Sighing, Lincoln knelt down and picked through his collection of _Spider-Man_ comics. “Hmm…” He pulled out a comic that was part of the Clone Saga. “No, no, not this one…” He put the comic back, then pulled out another one – the first part of the three-part _Green Goblin Reborn!_ arc. “Ah, here’s a good one…!” He fished out a few more, including the rest of the _Green Goblin Reborn!_ arc, _The Night Gwen Stacy Died,_ and _Kraven’s Last Hunt._ “And, let’s see, there’s another good arc here –”

Lincoln pulled out an issue of _The Spectacular Spider-Man_ – one that was part of the famous _Maximum Carnage_ arc – and froze. Looking at the villain on the cover, Lincoln was overcome by a feeling of revulsion – but not the type that was to be expected. He didn’t know why, but he _hated_ the way Carnage was portrayed – even though he knew Carnage was a psychopathic killer.

Lincoln frowned. “…This one is stupid,” he declared, shoving the comic back into storage. Instead, he pulled out the issues of the (first) Clone Saga, and plopped down at the head of the bed, patting the space between his legs. “All right, come on, Lana, let’s…” He gulped. “L-Let’s… read about Spider-Man.”

And so, Lincoln guided Lana through more of Spider-Man’s adventures, starting with the one that (he hoped) taught Lana a valuable lesson about drugs, while Lola slowly and carefully read her comic by herself. Shortly after they concluded that arc and moved on to the next one, Lola finished her comic, and, newly enamored with Black Widow, began gushing about her to Lincoln and Lana. Now sold on the idea of comics, Lola joined the two in reading about how Spider-Man lost his first true love. As the morning gave way to afternoon, Lincoln found himself being rather displeased with his hero. For someone who claimed that “with great power, comes great responsibility”, he didn’t _act_ very responsible. Sure, he tried his best, but sometimes, that just wasn’t enough. If being a hero cut that deeply into his personal life, then why didn’t he strike a better balance between the two, or just give up being a hero altogether?

Midway through the first Clone Saga, Lincoln got up and stretched.

“What’s wrong, Lincoln?” Lana asked.

Lincoln jabbed a thumb at the door. “Just… gonna use the bathroom.” That wasn’t the _whole_ truth – he also needed a break from all the superheroism.

Lincoln exited his room and walked towards the bathroom. As he passed by Luna and Luan’s room, where Luna was laying out some fresh jams, a deep pain vibrated through Lincoln along with the music. He couldn’t explain it, but it was as if something inside him was being torn apart.

That painful feeling followed him into the bathroom and stayed with him as he did his business, only increasing in amplitude the longer it went on. Finally, as he exited the bathroom, Lincoln decided that he couldn’t stand it any longer.

He came into Luna and Luan’s room, although it pained him to draw closer to the source of his pain. As Luna rocked out on her guitar, the music blaring through her amp, Luan lay on her bunk, reading a joke book, being quite used to the noise as Luna’s roommate.

The musical assault on Lincoln’s very being made him grit his teeth. “Luna?”

Luna stopped jamming, to Lincoln’s immediate relief. “What’s up, bro?” she said.

Lincoln sucked in a breath through his teeth. He figured that he should at least _try_ to be polite, if only because it would give him a greater chance of persuading her. “…Could you turn it down just a _little,_ please?”

Luna stared at her little brother, perplexed. He’d never complained about her jamming before. “…What’s all this about, bro?” she asked.

Lincoln sighed. “It’s just that… it’s disturbing me, like, a _lot,_ and so, I’d appreciate it if you turned it down, okay?”

Luna closed her eyes, considering his request. He’d asked politely, sure, but still – no-one told _her_ how to shred. “Dude…” She shook her head, sighing. “How do I put this…? What’s my name?”

Lincoln cocked an eyebrow. “…Luna?”

“My _full_ name, dude.”

“…Luna Loud?”

 _“Exactly!_ With a name like _that,_ man, like…” Luna shrugged. “…how am I _not_ supposed to play it loud, dude? I’m just being true to who I am!”

Lincoln sighed, exasperated. He didn’t get it, but clearly, Luna was intent on doing her own thing. “Okay, but… could you play it just, I don’t know, a little _less_ loud? Just a _little?_ For me?”

Luna shook her head. “Sorry, bro. Music is meant to be heard. I can’t help it if I want to play it to the heavens.” Her point made, she resumed rocking it out.

Lincoln plugged his ears, grimacing. _“Luna…!_ Luan, could you…?!”

Luan shrugged helplessly at him. She’d learned a long time ago that there was no silencing Luna Loud.

Lincoln growled. “Luna, _please…!”_

 _“Can’t hear you, bro!”_ Luna shouted over the riffing.

 _“Luna!”_ Although he didn’t want to, he drew closer. “Luna, I asked _politely! Luna! Are you –?! LUNA! I said…!”_

Luna just kept on jamming, drowning out his pleas. Lincoln clenched his hands into fists. If she wouldn’t listen to _reason,_ maybe she’d listen to _this._

_“I said… TURN IT **DOWN!”**_

Lincoln raised both fists in the air… and brought them down hard on Luna’s amp, smashing it.

The last of Luna’s jams croaked out from the amp along with a shower of sparks before the amp fell silent. Luna and Luan both looked at the amp, mouths agape, before turning their shocked gazes to Lincoln.

Lincoln took two steps back, looking at his hands. “I… I-I…”

 _“Lincoln!”_ Luna knelt down to survey the damage to her amp. _“What the hey, bro?!”_

“Nice Hulk impression, Linc!” Luan raised her fists above her head. _“‘LINCOLN SMASH!’ Hahahahaha!_ But seriously – the heck?”

Luan jumped off the bed to see the damage up close. Lincoln shook his head. “I-I-I’m sorry, I…” He paused. Something didn’t feel right about this. Why should he apologize for something that wasn’t his fault? “…No, you know what?” He pointed at Luna. _“No._ I asked you _politely_ to turn it down, and you ignored me! You brought this on yourself.”

With that said, he walked away, feeling rather satisfied with himself. Behind him, Luna shouted, _“Well, you’re paying to fix this!”_

Lincoln didn’t even turn to face her. “Yeah, yeah – put it on my tab!”

Sighing furiously, Luna turned her attention back to her amp. “Jeez…! What’s with him…?” Now that she wasn’t distracted, she noticed just how extensive the damage was. “Man, look at this! He hit it so hard, he practically _flattened_ it!”

“Talk about _‘rage against the machine’!”_ Luan quipped. _“Hahahahaha!_ Get it?”

Luna glared at her, unamused.

Meanwhile, Lincoln marched down the hall, arms at his sides and a scowl on his face. Those sisters of his, always doing whatever they pleased! He remembered the time he usurped power from Lori when their parents were gone – how his other sisters had completely disregarded his authority and turned the house into a mess. Not to mention the time he’d just gone to the supermarket to buy some Zombie Bran, and they’d all run amok in the store, eventually getting the lot of them banned. And who took all the blame for that? _Him,_ who else? And don’t even get him _started_ on the bad luck incident –

Lincoln stopped. The itch was starting to come back. He took a deep breath, trying to conjure up some happy thoughts. He thought about how those events _could_ have gone differently, like if he’d told his sisters they couldn’t come with him to the supermarket. Yeah, exerting some authority over them, like that! He thought about telling his sisters to shove it when they came to him with four different dates to the Sadie Hawkins dance, imagined the hurt on their faces. It was _their_ fault they didn’t pick up on the fact that he didn’t want to go, so _they_ should take a little responsibility! He started thinking about all the ways his sisters had wronged him, and how he could exact some payback, leading to some increasingly realistic, violent fantasies that felt more like memories. Among other things, he imagined himself shredding that stupid blue dress Lori and Leni had fought over – along with Lori and Leni themselves – along with lopping off a piece of Luan for every April Fools’ Day she’d pranked him. He pictured himself torturing Lola for all her evil ways, starting by gouging out her evil little –

Lincoln opened his eyes. What was he _doing?!_ He was thinking about _torturing_ his sisters! What happened to “happy thoughts”?

But as Lincoln thought about it, he realized that those _were_ his “happy thoughts”…

He felt like he should be ashamed of himself, and he really did try to be. But if he couldn’t feel bad about his “happy thoughts”, then he could at least shunt them aside. Out of mind, out of… uh, _mind._

He was back in his room. Lola and Lana didn’t notice his return, as they had begun reading the comic without him. Lincoln felt as though he should be mad, but really, he wasn’t. He wasn’t as enthused about reading comics as he was that morning.

Lana noticed his presence, and looked up at him. “Lincoln?”

Lincoln massaged his temples, trying to get himself back under control. “…Reading without me?” he said after a brief pause.

“Yeah…” Lana looked sheepish. “Sorry, Lincoln, but… well, this is just so cool!”

“Yeah, of course it is, that’s why I picked it out.” Lincoln sighed. “…Move over.”

Lincoln crawled back into his spot at the head of the bed, and Lola and Lana flanked him on each side, reading alongside him. Together, they read the Clone Saga to the end, and the twins were left chewing on the nature of humanity when the ending left it ambiguous as to whether or not the surviving Spider-Man was the real Patrick Perry or not. (Of course, Lincoln knew from later arcs that the other Patrick Perry had survived, and that that Patrick Perry was the real Patrick Perry, not the other Patrick Perry, except he wasn’t, and then he died, and then he _un_ died. Sometimes, truth was stranger than fiction…)

Lincoln tried to grin and bear it, at least for the sake of the girls, but the itch in his brain didn’t go away as they moved on to _Kraven’s Last Hunt,_ and by the time they had finished the penultimate installment, he was almost physically ill from reading so many Spider-Man comics. The one thing he could take satisfaction in was Kraven’s death at the end of the comic.

“No way!” Lana exclaimed as Lincoln closed the comic. “Kraven actually _kills himself?”_

“Well, _duh!”_ Lincoln said. “What did you expect? The title is _‘Kraven’s Last Hunt’._ Did you seriously not expect him to die at the end?”

“I thought that meant he was gonna retire, or something!” Lana leaned against the headboard of the bed, exhaling slowly. “But man, he actually _dies?_ That’s heavy…”

“Yeah, I guess.” Lincoln looked at the front cover, frowning. “It’s too bad it didn’t stick, though…”

“Hm?” Lana leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“He means that Kraven came back,” Lola answered.

“Back from where?”

“From the _dead,_ where else?!”

 _“WHAT?!”_ Lana jumped up, snatched the comic out of Lincoln’s hands (ignoring his admonitions to be careful with it), and flipped to the last few pages. “But… But…! _Look at him!_ He shoots himself in the head! How do you come back from _that?!”_

Lincoln shrugged. “Magic, I guess? Something like that.” He shook his head. “These supervillains… they never have the common courtesy to _die,_ and _stay dead!_ Either they find a way to come back from the grave, or it turns out they never _went_ to the grave in the first place, but they always come back. And then the superheroes can save the world from them all over again.” He scoffed disdainfully. _“Tch!_ And of course, Kraven offed himself. That’s how it always is – somehow, events get contrived in such a convoluted way that supervillains manage to kill _themselves,_ like Kraven, or the Green Goblin with his glider one time. All so that the ‘heroes’ don’t get their hands dirty.” He stood up and faced the twins on the bed. “Well, you know what? If the heroes _really_ want to make sure that the world would be safe, instead of constantly in danger, why don’t they put the bad guys in the ground themselves, and make sure they _stay_ there?”

Lana and Lola both stared at Lincoln, aghast. “Wha – L-Lincoln, are you saying that superheroes should _kill_ bad guys?!” Lana asked.

“Why not? If locking the bad guys up in jail or sending them to the insane asylum only puts them out of the picture for a few months, or even just _weeks,_ before they break out and cause chaos all over again, then there’s only one permanent solution!”

“But Lincoln,” Lola said, “killing is _bad!”_

“Ba –!” Lincoln paused, flexing his itching fingers and clenching his jaw. “Let me ask you something. If you do a bad thing for a good reason… does that make it good?”

Both Lola and Lana opened their mouths to answer, but their words caught in their throats. They fell silent, thinking.

“Life’s a lot more complex than just ‘good’ and ‘bad’, guys,” Lincoln said. He squatted down, opened his comic drawer, and starting fishing around in it. “Let’s see here… _Aha!_ Here we are!” He pulled out his rare copy of _The Punisher_ and presented it to the twins. “Now, _this_ guy…” He pointed to the intimidating-looking man, dressed all in black except for a white skull on his torso and armed to the teeth, on the cover. _“…this_ guy knows how to deal with bad guys. An ex-Marine, Frank Castle’s wife and kids were killed by the Mafia, and he swore revenge on all lawbreakers. The Punisher’s one of the baddest, deadliest vigilantes in the _world!”_

“Really?” Lana said. “So, wait, if he fights crime… doesn’t that make him a _superhero?_ What’s a ‘vi-jil-ann-tee’?”

“And how come we’ve never heard of him?” Lola asked.

“A vigilante is basically someone who fights crime _without_ being a cop or having superpowers,” Lincoln answered. “And, well, Marvel doesn’t make many Punisher comics because, well, it’s hard to track down the Punisher for interviews, and anyways, the Punisher gets royalties from the comics, which he uses to fund his illegal one-man war on crime, so…” He cleared his throat. “Anyways, the Punisher doesn’t shy away from killing criminals. And the bad guys he kills _stay_ dead. Which means they can’t commit crimes anymore. Problem solved.” He sneered. “Meanwhile, _superheroes_ keep having the supervillains arrested, and then they escape, and then a bunch more civilians’ lives are on the line again – back to square one. But hey, the superheroes are always there to save the day again!”

Just then, an idea occurred to Lincoln – one that just might explain superheroes’ reluctance to kill. “…You know what? I think the superheroes never kill the supervillains because they _want_ to keep saving the day over and over. For the _fame._ For the _glory._ All to feed their massive egos…”

 _“Lincoln!”_ Lola shouted in disgust. She shook her head. “I… I just can’t _believe_ what I’m hearing! A superhero _saved your life!_ Superheroes save _thousands,_ _hundreds_ of thousands – heck, _millions_ of lives every year! _They’ve saved the PLANET – no, the entire UNIVERSE, more times than we can count!”_ She looked at him incredulously. “And now all you have to say about them is _criticism?!_ Calling them _selfish_ and saying they have _‘massive egos’?!”_

Lincoln stared at her, momentarily stymied, but then shook his head. “I-I’m not saying they haven’t done good _things –_ I’m just saying that they might not have done them for good _reasons._ That’s all.”

Lana stood up on the bed. “Well, I don’t believe that! And I don’t believe that superheroes should kill, either! Superheroes are awesome, upstanding people – defenders of truth and justice for everyone, _everywhere!”_

She sprang off the bed and ran past Lincoln into the hallway, digging out her carpenter’s hammer from her overalls and holding it aloft dramatically. “Behold, the mighty hammer Mullner!”

 _“Mjolnir,”_ Lincoln corrected her.

 _“Whatever!”_ Lana looked up at her hammer as Luan and Leni came out of their rooms to see what the fuss was all about. “Only I can wield its awesome power and the power of lightning, for I am _Thor!”_

“Why don’t you take _th_ ome a _th_ pirin, then?” Luan said, laughing as she returned to her room.

Lana pointed her hammer at the doorway of Luna and Luan’s room. “Hark! The villainous jester Loki makes his escape!” She gestured for Lola to follow her. “Come, Black Widow!”

Leni gasped. “‘Black widow’?! _Where?! AAAAAAHHHHH!”_ Screaming, Leni ran back into her room, slammed the door, and barricaded herself inside as Lana charged into Luna and Luan’s room swinging her hammer while Lola followed her, striking martial arts poses.

Lincoln watched this all happen with tired annoyance, then when all was said and done, he shook his head and sighed. “…They’ll learn,” he told himself. “They might not believe it yet, but they’ll learn.” Shutting the door, he flopped down onto his empty bed and sighed again. All in all, this little exercise had proven to be a waste of his time. He didn’t have nearly as much fun with it as he thought he would have, and to add insult to injury, it had failed in its intended purpose – his itch was still there. Heck, after reading all those action sequences, it was stronger than ever.

Growling, he turned over to lay on his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. _“Whyyyyy…?”_ he moaned into the pillow. As the itch twinged particularly strongly inside him, he grasped the pillow, pulled it tighter over his face, and screamed, _“WHYYYYYYY?!”_

Just then, his stomach growled, and Lincoln suddenly became acutely aware of how much time had passed since his last meal. Turning over and clutching his belly, he groaned, _“Ohhh…_ I need some food…” He got up. “Maybe that’ll put me in a better mood…”

Lincoln trudged down the stairs, past Lori, Lisa, and Mr. Loud in the living room, and to the kitchen, where he made himself a peanut butter and sauerkraut sandwich. As he ate the sandwich at the kitchen table, a curious idea came to Lincoln. For whatever reason, he imagined his peanut butter and sauerkraut sandwich as… a face. A _human_ face. A face that screamed whenever he bit a chunk out of it. To his surprise, he actually started _enjoying_ himself, chuckling as he chewed. Something told him that this was bad, that this was _wrong…_

…but for whatever reason, he didn’t feel that way. Should he have felt guilty? Should he not have? He honestly didn’t know anymore. Odd.

What’s more, imagining biting into a screaming face… _appeased_ the itch in his brain. It did not _satisfy_ it, since he knew that it was not real, but the urge to scratch it faded, much to his relief. What was it about it that appeased the itch, then? Imagining violence? He recalled his fantasies about killing Leni and Charles yesterday, and he still didn’t know where they came from, but he was hard-pressed to think of why he should care.

Something was wrong. No, not _wrong…_ at least, he didn’t think so. Something was… _different._ Yes. Thoughts that would have made him sick to his stomach just a few days ago now didn’t trouble him in the slightest. In fact, he was starting to like them. Thinking back to his viewing of _The Harvester_ that terrified him into staying up all night, he was now possessed with a fierce desire to see that movie again.

Lincoln walked back up the stairs. Something had changed in him, and rather quickly, at that. But he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. That was frustrating. So was his meal. He found himself craving something… _meatier…_

As he reached the top of the stairs, his thoughts were interrupted by Lynn jumping him, wearing a _luchador_ mask. _“LUCHA LIBRE!”_ she shouted, tussling with Lincoln and uttering a war cry. Lincoln, taken completely by surprise, soon found himself in a compression lock that Lynn had learned off the TV earlier that day.

“Lunatic Lynn has Loco Lincoln in a calf crusher!” Lynn commentated over her own impromptu match. “Can he escape before the count of three?”

Lincoln uttered a deep, bestial growl. This was the _last_ thing he needed right now. If this was how she wanted to play, then so be it.

“One! Two! Thr – _WHOA?!”_

Lincoln extended his trapped leg with surprising force, throwing Lynn onto her back. Before she could even begin to recover, Lincoln swept to his feet, grabbed her wrist, and applied torque, straightening and twisting her arm around so that Lynn was turned onto her front. She reached behind her desperately with her other hand, wrapping her hand around Lincoln’s ankle, but Lincoln held her other arm in one hand and grabbed Lynn’s free hand with the other, twisting it in the same manner until Lynn’s arms were completely immobilized.

Lynn, taken completely by surprise, tried to struggle free. _“Hnn…! Hnnngh…!_ Can’t… give… in…! Must… defend… title…!”

Lincoln just twisted her arms harder, stepping on her back for extra leverage. Lynn gave a short cry of pain, then hung her head. “One… two… three! _Pin!”_ She started panting, turning her head to look at Lincoln behind and above her. “Wow… O-Okay, Lincoln, not bad! I’m impressed, bro! You’ve got to show me where you got all that muscle from!”

Lincoln didn’t answer. He stood transfixed, staring at Lynn’s arms in his hands.

He had her pinned down… completely helpless.

Lynn raised an eyebrow. “Uh, Lincoln? Could you let me go now?”

Lincoln didn’t let go. Instead, he twisted harder, making Lynn gasp as her eyes shot wide.

“L-Lincoln? W-What are you doing?”

In response, Lincoln turned Lynn’s wrists even further, applying a now-piercing amount of pressure on her joints. Lynn uttered a high-pitched squeak, and hearing it brought a look of sick jubilation to Lincoln’s face. Typical Lynn, attacking him out of the blue like that, only doing what _she_ wanted to do – something she had an unfair advantage in.

Well, now _he_ had an advantage, too. And although he didn’t know where it came from, he intended to use it – to its _full_ potential.

“I wonder how far you can bend before you break…” Lincoln said.

Lynn looked up at him, a look of fear in her eyes. “Wh-Wh- _What?”_

Lincoln twisted even harder, and Lynn scrunched her eyes tightly in response. _“Ow! Ow, ow, ow!_ O-Okay, Lincoln, you win, okay? There! I admit it! Now, please… _please_ let go…!”

Lynn’s pleas fell on deaf ears, for Lincoln only increased the torque to the point that he could actually hear the connective tissues straining. Lynn buried her face in the carpet, tears in her eyes. _“Owww…!_ M-Mercy! Please, Lincoln, _mercy!”_

Lincoln had none. After some more twisting, Lynn felt like her arms were being caught in the gears of an industrial machine. _“Ahhh…!_ N-No more, Lincoln, _no more!_ Any more and I’ll –”

“You’ll _what?”_ Lincoln demanded smugly.

Lynn turned her head to give one last impassioned look to Lincoln. “L-Lincoln, _please…_ wh-wh-why are you doing this?”

“Because I _can.”_ Lincoln’s smirk turned to a frown. “It’s time you had a taste of your own medicine, Lynn…”

And with that, he slowly twisted Lynn’s arms further, closer and closer to the breaking point. Lynn could feel it approaching, bit by bit, and she started sobbing openly. “Please… _Please_ don’t…! _Please! PLEASE, Lincoln! Don’t! L-Lincoln…! LINCOLN…!”_

“Lincoln.”

Lincoln jumped, releasing Lynn’s arms, as Lucy revealed her presence right next to him. Even through her thick bangs and stoic face, Lincoln could tell that she was displeased.

 _“That’s enough.”_ Lucy nodded at Lynn, who now sat up, arms hanging uselessly at her sides. She looked up at her brother glaring down at her, and felt afraid of him for the first time since, uh… well, for the first time _ever._ Whimpering like a kicked puppy, she scurried back to her and Lucy’s room, kicking the door shut behind her.

Lincoln watched her go unhappily, then turned his displeasure onto Lucy. Lucy folded her arms and stood before him defiantly.

“Jeez, Lucy, what’s your problem?” Lincoln asked. “We were only playing!”

 _“You_ were playing,” Lucy responded. _“She_ was suffering.”

Lincoln shrugged. “Hey, what can I say? She said it herself, didn’t she?” He did his best (and most mocking) Lynn impression: _“‘If you can’t take the heat, then get out of the kitchen, wimp!’”_ He had a little laugh at her expense.

Lucy was most certainly _not_ amused. Gently, she touched her brother’s arm. “Lincoln… what’s wrong?” she asked.

Her question caught Lincoln off-guard. “H-Huh?”

Lucy grasped Lincoln’s sleeve. “I first noticed at dinner last night, but I couldn’t be sure of it until now.” She looked at him. “Lincoln… you’re _changing._ I don’t know what’s causing it, but it’s _changing_ you.” Lucy’s lower lip quivered. “And not for the better.”

Lincoln gaped at her, offended. Here she was – Miss Doom-And-Gloom, Miss Speaks-To-The-Dead, Miss Mystical-Tarot-BS – and _she_ was implying that something was wrong with him? Well, who the heck was _she_ to judge?!

Lincoln narrowed his eyes at Lucy. She had just gotten on his last nerve.

Lucy reached out to caress his cheek. “A dark shadow hangs over your soul…”

Lincoln batted her hand away. “Yeah, I’m _looking_ at it!” he sneered.

Lucy took a step back. “Lincoln, I’m trying to help you…”

Lincoln took a step forward. “Yeah? Well, even if I _needed_ help, you’re the _last_ person I’d look for it from!”

Lucy shook her head. “Lincoln, _listen to yourself…!”_

“I _have!”_ Lincoln threw up his arms. “I _have_ been listening to myself – _all day!_ And do you know what I’ve heard?” He took another step towards her, rolling high on his momentum. The words just flowed naturally out of him. “I’ve heard a _new_ Lincoln; a _better_ Lincoln! One who’s not as naïve as the old Lincoln; one who’s not nearly so much of a _pushover!”_

“Lincoln, what are you talking about?”

“You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to? What you’ve been up to, ever since day one? Ohoho, no, you can’t pull the wool over my eyes anymore, Lucy. Every kind word you’ve said to me, every kind deed you’ve done – you and all the others – it’s all a _sham._ All of it. You just pretend to be good, loving sisters to stay in Mom and Dad’s good graces, and to delude yourselves into thinking that you’re good people!”

Lucy looked deeply wounded by his words. “That’s not true, Lincoln, and you know it!”

“Oh, _no?_ Don’t think I’ve ever forgotten any of the times you’ve all stepped all over me to get what _you_ want – to have _your_ fun! Eating up so much energy, and making _me_ pick up the slack; letting the house become a mess because _you_ were too stubborn to just trade chores with me; hogging our parents’ _and_ the McBrides’ attention all to _your_ selves; the chaos at the supermarket; the Sister Fight Protocol; the fawning over Hugh; and don’t even get me _started_ on the ‘bad luck’ incident…!”

Lucy shrank before him as he loomed closer and closer. “Lincoln…”

“Well, I’m _sick of it!_ And I’m not going to be anybody’s _doormat_ more! From now on, Lincoln Loud does what he wants, and _takes_ what he wants, whenever he wants it! And if any of you get in my way, well…” He chuckled, nodding at Lynn and Lucy’s closed door. “…you saw what happened to Lynn, and she’s the strongest out of all of you…”

By now, Lucy was backed up completely against the wall. “L-Lincoln,” she said, “you’re scaring me…”

Lincoln watched her cower before him. Flush with a new sense of power he’d never felt before, he leered down at her. “Oh, I’m _scaring_ you, am I? Am I _scaring_ you, huh?” He leaned in closer. “Am I scaring you, Lucy? Am I? Hm? Scaring _you?_ Am I?” When she failed to respond, his fist shot out and thumped the wall right next to her head. _“Well? Am I?!”_

“Y- _Yes!”_ Lucy admitted. “Yes, yes, you’re scaring me!”

Lincoln fell silent. Lucy cringed, not knowing what he was going to do next, but nothing happened. Finally, curiously, she looked up at him – exactly what he was waiting for.

_“…Good.”_

Lincoln grabbed Lucy by the throat and drove her back against the wall, banging her head against it. “L-L- _Lincoln?!”_ Lucy said. “W-Wh-What are you doing?!”

Lincoln raised two fingers to Lucy’s face, grazing them across her soft, alabaster cheeks as tears rolled down them. “Look at you…” he whispered. “So pale… So _fragile…”_ He let his hand drift away, towing a lock of her jet-black hair along with it before it escaped and flowed back to the side of her head. “You’re like a _doll._ A little porcelain doll.” Lincoln smiled sinisterly. _“Heh…_ Maybe I should toss you out the window; watch you _shatter_ into a _million pieces –”_

He was interrupted by Lori forcefully separating the two of them and delivering a hard slap across Lincoln’s face. The wrestling session with Lynn and Lincoln’s ranting had drawn the rest of his sisters’ attention, and they all had congregated upstairs without his noticing.

 _“How dare you?!”_ Lori shouted. _“Who do you think you are?!_ Lincoln, I know you survived a supervillain attack, and you’re under a lot of stress, but I don’t care if you survived _Armageddon –_ no-one, and I mean _no-one,_ threatens a family member like _that,_ **_EVER!”_ **Lori folded her arms. “Now _what do you have to say for yourself?!”_

Lincoln rubbed his stinging cheek, grimacing. His lips curled in an evil fashion as he looked up at his eldest sister. “…I’ll tell you what I have to say,” he said. “I say, if you _ever_ lay another hand on me _again,_ I will _paint this house WITH YOUR **BLOOD!”**_

The Loud house, in a manner completely uncharacteristic of itself, fell completely silent. None of the sisters who still had the capacity to speak dared to do so. They stared blankly ahead, still processing: Not only had Lincoln said what he just said, but by the tone of his voice, he _meant it,_ too. Lincoln, for his part, was satisfied that he’d gotten his message across.

And he had – to _all_ the residents of 1216 Franklin Avenue. The Loud sisters heard the footsteps like the rumble of an oncoming earthquake, and cringed.

They knew that the law was about to be laid down in the Loud house.

 ** _“LINCOLN LOUD!”_ **thundered Mrs. Loud as she came up the stairs, Mr. Loud hot on her heels. When she reached the top of the stairs, she spent a few moments huffing, red in the face, before preparing to launch into the fiercest tongue-lashing she’d ever delivered. “I… _cannot… BELIEVE what I just heard, young man! Did you just THREATEN your big sister?! Threaten to paint this house with her BLOOD?! HUH?! ANSWER ME!”_

As soon as he’d seen his mother, Lincoln, in a stark contrast to earlier, became suddenly withdrawn and shaky. “Uh…”

_“I want a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, young man!”_

Lincoln swayed – it was like he didn’t even know where he was anymore. “U-Uh… Ah…”

Lincoln’s sisters, by now thoroughly freaked out, saw how unpredictable Lincoln was now and were afraid of how he might react next. Thus, they tried to dissuade their mother from provoking him any further, speaking over each other in a panic.

“M-Mom, _hang on –”_

“—Dad, Linky’s acting _really_ scary right now –”

“—thought he just had a bad dream, but now I –”

“—s-so scared, I can’t even think of a pun –”

“—D-Don’t… He’s… Don’t –”

“—think we should take him to a psychologist –”

“—have _no idea_ what’s going on with –”

“—seemed fine _before,_ but now, all of a –”

“—possible psychosis induced by brain –”

_“—ya ya! Yinky, poo poo!”_

The Loud sisters’ desperate pleas only mixed into an undiscernible cacophony which Mrs. Loud could hardly hear herself think over. Dusting off the “big voice”, she took a deep breath, and then shouted at the top of her lungs:

_“Everybody, SHUT UP!”_

Everyone immediately did so. That was the first time their mother had used language _that_ strong with them, _ever._ Mrs. Loud waited a few moments to let it be established that _she_ was in charge now, then said in a deadly even voice, “…So. Seeing as how Lincoln is not inclined to answer me, can any of you confirm that he said what we thought he said?”

All of the sisters nodded quickly.

Mrs. Loud looked at her husband, who nodded. She took a deep breath, then turned to look at Lincoln, who still trembled before her like the scolded child he was.

“Lincoln…” Mrs. Loud said in a chillingly quiet voice, “…this is _unforgivable._ You _cannot,_ under _any circumstances,_ say something like _that_ to _any_ of your sisters. _Do you understand?”_

Lincoln played with the buttons on his shirt and didn’t answer, not looking his mother in the eye.

Mrs. Loud was not pleased with his silence. _“…Lincoln. LOOK AT ME.”_

As slow as the sunrise, Lincoln lifted his gaze to his mother’s. His mother’s glare was as cold and unforgiving as winter. “…Now. There is only _one_ punishment fitting enough for something like _this.”_ A tiny curve tugged at the edges of her mouth.

“And it’s been one I’ve been waiting to deal you for a _long_ time.”

Mrs. Loud reached behind her back… and pulled out a knife. Lincoln snapped back to full awareness, trying to back away. “M- _Mom?!_ What are you doing?!”

“What I should have done the day you were _born!”_

His sisters started to become excited. Together, they started chanting, _“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”_

 As his mother advanced on him with murderous intent, Lincoln’s mind began spiraling. His mother and sisters wanted to kill him; he knew it all along! Or did he? Did they want to because they hated him? Or was it because of his unpardonable offense, which would make his death perfectly justified? Couldn’t a superhero save him? But weren’t superheroes all glory hounds anyways? What happened to his newfound strength? Did he still have it, or had it abandoned him? What about the bump on his head? Venom? Spider-Man? Was this another dream, and he was still sleeping? Was this real? Was _he_ real? Was _anything_ real?!

And the _itching…!_ The itching _just… wouldn’t… stop…!_

His mother was now dangerously close. He couldn’t risk it. He had to do something. He had to _act._

His sisters kept chanting, although their mouths weren’t moving. Mrs. Loud still had that mask of unmistakable fury on, although the knife had vanished. Most likely, she was hiding it out of sight, waiting for the next moment to strike.

Lincoln couldn’t allow that. _“No…”_

Mrs. Loud folded her arms. _“Lincoln Loud!”_

Lincoln held the sides of his head, shaking it. “No… _No…!”_

_“Lincoln, are you listening to me?!”_

“Stop…! _Stop…! Stop it…! Stop!”_

 _“Lincoln!”_ Mr. Loud shouted. _“Listen to your mother!”_

_“Stop! Stop it! Stop!”_

_“Lincoln!”_ Mrs. Loud grasped her son firmly by the shoulders. _“I said –”_

_“STOOOOOP!”_

Quick as a flash, Lincoln lashed out at his mother, shoving her as hard as he could toward the stairs. His attack was so unexpected that Mr. Loud barely had time to react to Mrs. Loud’s yelp and realize she was lurching towards him before she crashed into him, tripping over his leg and tumbling head-over-heels down the stairs, coming to a stop halfway down.

Once again, everyone was stunned silent, and it took some time for everyone to gather their wits enough to react.

_“Rita!”_

_“Mom!”_

_“MOMMY!”_

Mr. Loud and most of the Loud daughters rushed to their matriarch’s aid, crowding the staircase in their desperate dash to help. Luan lingered behind to grab Lincoln by the shoulders and shake him violently.

 _“Lincoln!”_ she screamed. _“WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!”_

For a moment, Lincoln stood as he had, dizzily, before he abruptly and inexplicably returned to lucidity at that very moment. All at once, he realized what he had done.

He’d nearly broken Lynn’s arms. He’d choked Lucy and threatened to throw her out the window. He’d given Lori a very deadly, _very_ serious threat.

And he’d just pushed his mother down the stairs.

He’d just _pushed his mother down the stairs._

Horrified beyond belief, Lincoln’s first instinct was to rush to his mother’s side, but he quickly realized that that was the _last_ place his family probably wanted him to be right now, so he backed away. “I…” he stammered. “I, I, I… I d – I don’t… I…!” He buried his face in his hands. _“I don’t know!_ I don’t know what I’m doing! I don’t know what’s wrong with me! _I don’t know!”_

As the others took Mrs. Loud downstairs for some ice packs, Luan cautiously approached Lincoln. “Lincoln…” she said, “…you have to come with us—”

Lincoln took a step back. “N… No…”

“Lincoln –”

_“NO!”_

Without warning, Lincoln rushed into his room, slammed the door, and locked it before any of his sisters could open it. He leaned against the door and sat on the floor, curled up into a ball and sniveling.

Luan knocked on the door loudly. _“Lincoln? Lincoln, open up!”_

Lincoln shook his head fiercely. _“NO! No, g-go away!”_

_“Lincoln, we need to talk –”_

_“Leave me alone!”_ He sobbed helplessly. “I-I… I don’t… _want_ to hurt you, but…”

 _But I’m afraid I might,_ he wanted to say, but he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Luan took it as another threat, and so lingered a little longer before slinking away, heartbroken.

Lincoln listened to her go, then buried his face in his knees. In one day, he’d destroyed his relationships with everyone he’d ever loved – and he had no idea why.

 _“What’s going on…?!”_ he cried. _“What’s HAPPENING to me?!”_

And as he sat there, sobbing, he heard a voice echo in his head, clear as day:

_‘I’M happening to you, Lincoln.’_

Lincoln stopped crying. He lifted his head and looked all around his room. That voice… didn’t _sound_ familiar.

“W-Who… Who said that?” he asked.

(…)

Meanwhile, downstairs, everyone was either tending to Mrs. Loud, or tending to themselves, after Lincoln’s meltdown. Leni was crying, as was Lily, and Lori and Luna were doing their best to console their roommates.

Mr. Loud sat Mrs. Loud in a kitchen chair and got her four ice packs – one for her head, one for her hip, one for her knee, and one for her ankle.

“Feeling better, honey bun?” Mr. Loud asked.

Mrs. Loud sighed angrily. “…That boy is _grounded. Forever._ For _starters…”_

Lucy, meanwhile, spoke with Lana, Lisa, and Lynn, who, after seeing Lincoln hurt their mother, had regained much of her prior attitude. “You guys,” she said, “I’m worried about Lincoln.”

“About _him?”_ Lynn said. “After what he did to Mom? To _me?”_

 “Exactly. I’ve been watching him all day – from the vents, the hall – and he’s not acting like himself. Something’s going on with him – and we need to find out what.”

“I _did_ notice he’d been acting weird,” Lana reported. “Yesterday, he was so excited to show me all his comics, but today he was just, like, I dunno, _‘whatever’,_ you know? Then he starts criticizing all the superheroes, wanting them to kill the bad guys…”

Lisa tapped her chin contemplatively. “Hmmm… He seems to be becoming more violent…”

 _“Ya think?”_ Lynn said.

“Oh, and when Lola and I went into Luna and Luan’s room, her amp was smashed,” Lana added. “She said Lincoln did it.”

“With his _bare hands?”_ Lynn asked.

“Apparently.”

“Increased strength…” Lisa said. “Interesting…”

“That would certainly explain how he beat me at _lucha libre,”_ Lynn said. “Still, we don’t know _why_ Lincoln’s changing the way he is…”

“Hmmm…” Lisa looked at Lucy. “Lucy, you seem experienced in human emotions. I’d like to hear your thoughts on any possible emotional causes.”

As Lucy and Lisa walked away, talking, Lynn conferred with Lana. “So, whaddya think, Lynn?” Lana asked.

“No clue,” Lynn replied. “This whole thing is a riddle wrapped inside a mystery wrapped inside an enigma. Did I say that right?”

Lana shrugged. “Close enough.”

“One thing’s for sure, though – ever since Spider-Man and Venom came to town, things have just been getting weirder and weirder around here…”

“Y –” Lana faltered. “Y-Yeah… Funny, that…”

Just then, the doorbell rang. _“I’ll get it!”_ Lynn and Lana both said at the same time. The two looked at each other, shrugged, and decided to answer it together.

Lynn and Lana went from the dining room to the front door, which Lynn opened. Standing on the porch outside was a tall, musclebound man with blond hair, a beard, dirty clothes, and a knowing look in his eye.

“Afternoon, young ladies,” the man said. “I was hoping you could help me find someone. I’m looking for a boy, around ten years old or so – white hair, chipped tooth, goes by 'Lincoln'. Sound familiar?”


End file.
